Some forty years ago when I was still a young man,
My father, mother, and I drove 50 miles to High Falls Lake.
Dad had said,"We had better get in one last fishing trip while we still can."
Since it was late October and soon our fishing would take a winter break.

We fished for bream while standing on the lake's bank.
My father was a very serious fisherman, my mother much less so.
Hooking a fish Mom would yell "Woo, Woo, Woo" and give the line a hard yank.
Dad would complain, by all her noise, of our presence she'd let all the fish know.

Mom found a tied-up rowboat in which she could climb in and sit.
She perched herself on the back seat and fished for a while.
I decided to join her if she thought in the boat we would both safely fit.
She said,"Sure. Climb on in and join me", welcoming me with a big smile.

We fished a bit, getting nary a bite, but talking and making noise.
Meanwhile,Dad had found a good spot and was catching fish at a brisk clip.
Deciding to join him,as I stepped out, I saw on the back left corner Mom now poised.
Suddenly, free of my weight, her corner began drastically to dip.

I watched as the boat in excruciatingly slow motion pitched over on its side.
Mom was yelling her loudest "Woo! Woo! Woo!", causing Dad to turn around.
As she disappeared beneath the surface, Dad ran over, laughing 'til he cried.
I admit I was laughing, but Dad was roaring, rolling on the ground!

Mom emerged from the lake, soaking wet, cold, and rather perturbed.
Seeing us laughing so hard only made her madder still!
Needless to say, fishing that day was at its end, all plans totally disturbed.
But that was one fishing trip with Mom I remember still and always will.