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AuthorDate Entered/ModifiedViews
Daniel A. Stafford7/19/2000 1:39:34 PM
1/13/2021 9:07:57 PM

Platte Cats

Platte Cats:

Mother fierce, leading three young wild ones.
Black hair, blond hair, red hair, one daughter, two sons.
Off to the tiny Nebraska back water park.
We lived in a one horse town and were there just before dark.

We'd been dancing on sandbars all day.

Wild long hair, sun tans, and blue jean shorts.
Children in the late 60's and full of smart aleck retorts.
I was eleven, the other two younger trouble and fun.
My little sister, the mischievous one, brother with a mean streak.

We'd been to the Powwow the day before.

The Indians called him Red Tornado in their native tongue.
I'd many a happy childhood memory here where their songs were sung.
A fisherman on a Platte river bank at dusk did stand.
He'd hauled a huge channel cat out of a river of sand.

The fish was bigger than me.

Ooo's and aaaahhh's and children's wide eyes.
This was a fisherman that needed no lies.
A four footer if it was an inch.
"Could you please give me a pinch?"

I thought I was dreaming at first.

Sunset stories, campfires, pitched pup tents.
Marshmallows roasting on sticks that are bent.
Stars you could see in their millions galore,
And places I see if I just close my eyes once more.

"What are you going to do with that thing?"

"I'll sell it to the local restaurant for catfish steaks!"
After a careful picture he takes!
A foot and a half off the ground at the dorsal fin,
And near two feet across the gills with not a drop of gin.

Ain't that something to remember, Mom?


By: Daniel A. Stafford

By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments

When I was eight years old, we lived in a tiny town, Genoa Nebraska.
Population 1050. It was an incredible place to be a child, gravel higways and all.
We went back one summer to visit friends, and there was an Indian Powwow at the park.
The really did call my brother the Red Tornado from his hair and temperament.
And if anything I underestimate that channel cat we saw after the following days' swim.
We were definitely the Platte Cats then! And that fisherman could brag for years!

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AuthorDate Entered/ModifiedViews
Daniel A. Stafford7/19/2000 1:39:34 PM
1/13/2021 9:07:57 PM
Daniel A. Staffordaqmstaffo@mailbag.comwww.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

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You can create an account or log in using the links at the bottom of this page.Total Comments: 1


Janine Danielspinnys@hotmail.comwww.spinnys.com7/21/2000 11:47:53 AM
I feel like you've let me see something very
personal and special with this poem... a trip
down memory lane. I felt like I was there with

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