Drifting toward the waterfall
Miles up ahead
The boat rudderless
Small leaks wetting my feet
The morning air against my face
The sun bright, eyes squinting
A cowbird not singing on a reed
The tackle box spilled
Lures floating, some sinking in the water
The brown water in my soggy tennis shoes.
My friend didn't come with me
Said she didn't want to fish
But I think she didn't want me
I should jump out
Take my chances, swim toward shore
I sit wondering why she said 'no'
Her hand pulled from mine
Leaving an empty place on my finger
Especially at the end where we last touched.
Roe
July 2023
