To My Fort Phantom Lake

James Higgins

February 1, 2026

I know 

you’re still there

I saw pictures 

now I wonder 

if old Fort Phantom

still stands

Did your waters really

hold fish back then? 

I baited my hook with

stick-stunned grasshoppers

so plentiful in west Texas

threw my line in set my reel

the only bites I got

were chiggers

no sleeping bags just

heavy quilts

to cushion the earth &

we worried (a little)

about snakes as we slept

in darkness

Your waters warmed 

by the hot Texas sun

made swimming easy

among schools of perch

we couldn’t catch on hooks

no big channel catfish either

Uncle Joe’s son of a bitch stew

was dinner some nights or

hotdogs blackened on sticks

in campfires                 stars 

filled the wide dark skies

I don’t remember any moon.

Born in Abilene, James Higgins spent the first fifteen years of his life in Texas, living in San Antonio during the school year, then spending most summers with his dad in the little town of Merkel, where both his parents were born. Two different worlds, city life vs. small town.