JUST...GONE FISHING In 1984, when my father turned sixty-five he bought one of the first personal computers on the market. At the time manufactures like IBM, and Texas Instruments were not sure if the computers would sell. They did not know why any body would want one, much less what they would do with it. My father knew. He had been writing poems since he was about six years old. He wrote them on scraps of paper, handwritten, typed, with ever present art work best described as doodles. He wanted this early computer to organize and preserve them. Maybe, he thought they were great works of literature. Maybe a piece of history over sixty years in the making. Mostly, I think he liked them. I know I did. Over twenty years later, I rediscover them. Now, I hope you enjoy them as much as we did. Terry L Broxson