Impatient

 

Standing on the floating dock with my father,

fishing.

We hadn’t caught anything,

we never caught anything.

It was the big joke in our family.

Waiting,

without the patience of a true fisherman,

wondering why other people caught fish

and we wasted time.

Finally, we had given up and were packing up to leave.

As I reeled up the line, quickly,

impatience showing again,

I turned to look as the lure cleared the water-

and a silver streak followed.

A fish! My God, a fish!

He shot out of the dark water

pursuing his escaping prize,

and fell back in, to swim elsewhere

in search of other prey.

With nervous hands

I dropped the line back into the water,

hoping to give him back his prize

and make him mine,

desperately not wanting

to go home empty-handed

again.

 

                             KWF

                             1/24/85