Sam
NIGHT CRAWLERS
Tercet Variation
Dark night.
Flashlight.
Dad and I hunt worms tonight.
Grass slick.
Worms thick.
Tiptoe near and grab them quick.
Hold firm.
They squirm.
Tug-o-war with earth and worm.
Ninety-four.
Worms galore.
Set our bucket near the door.
Next day.
No delay.
Look out, fish — we’re on our way!
Sam
JUST DAD AND ME
Free Verse Poem
For fishing tomorrow
it’s just us two.
Not Mom, not Grandpa,
not Lucy.
It’ll be like playing catch or
painting the garage.
Just Dad and me.
Fishing.
Sam
MY TACKLE BOX
Switcheroo Poem
I love my fishing tackle box — it’s green and blue and gold.
My grandpa gave it to me when I wasn’t very old.
I need to get it ready for tomorrow at the lake.
We’re leaving in the morning just as soon as we’re awake.
One tiny click and now my treasure chest is open wide.
A shelf with lots of little spaces holds my gear inside.
My silver sinkers, wiggle worms, my floating frogs, my line.
My shiny spinner lures, my bobbers, hooks—there’re 29.
The shelf is on a hinge—it hides my secret space below.
It’s where I keep my special treasures out of sight—OH NO!
. . . Where’s my compass?
Where’s my map?
Where’s my lucky fishing cap?
Where’s my stringer?
Something’s wrong!
This princess doll does not belong!
. . . What is this?
A throne?
A crown?
A polka-dotted circus clown?
A tiny bottle of perfume?
I smell Lucy in my room!
Lucy
FISHING FOR PRETEND
Dramatic Poem for One, Quatrains
Oh, Sam—you’re here. Come on, let’s play!
I’m fishing for pretend tonight.
It’s fun to use your gear this way.
Hold on, I think I have a bite.
Your map’s a paper fishing boat.
Your compass is the steering wheel.
I think our boat could really float.
It would be fun to fish for real.
Your stringer makes a tiny lake.
I didn’t crumple up your map.
Your compass works—it didn’t break.
I sure do like your fishing cap.
I didn’t snoop—I made a trade.
Stay here, sit down, don’t go away.
Don’t you like the boat I made?
Your fishing stuff is fun—come play!