For Robert, Paddling Across Smooth Water

by madeleine french

Casting a line through

silver morning mist, he waits.

With that first tug, I imagine

a smile lights his face; one

I’ve seen when he looks at her.

Later, strong shoulders hang

his kayak on the garage ceiling.

Deft fingers place delicate fishing rods in black holders along the side wall.

For this methodical man who loves my difficult daughter I sewed a clear zipper pouch to keep his cell phone dry. And in the quilt-soft quiet when I turned off the machine these words were waiting.