Volume VIII, No. 3, Spring 1981

On the Banks of the


Photographs by Dwayne Sherrer

When I was just a little boy about the age of nine,
I would cut me an old hickory pole and get me some fishing twine.
I would snitch some of Grandma's cookies and a bit to chew,
And I would head out for the banks of the old Roubidoux.
I would set there and fish till my heart's content,
Watching those fishes bite, then wondering where they went.
Them darned old mosquitoes would bite me till I was black and blue,
But I would stay right there fishing on the banks of the old Roubidoux.

Now here I lay in this hospital bed,
Just a few more days and I'll probably be dead,
But when I reach that land where everything's true,
Again I'll be on the banks of the old Roubidoux.
                 ------ Bobby Joe Sherrer


Copyright © 1981 BITTERSWEET, INC.

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