A Fishing Expedition

I caught my first fish

at age two, no hook,

no reel, a wriggling worm

tied with the string

on my cane pole.

My daddy set me up.

Quiet cross-legged on the dock

obeying his concise

instructions, shhh, watch now.

Patient, wide-eyed while a tiny perch

nibbled its way through

my offering.  No one came

when I yelled,

I caught one!

I finally jerked my catch

out of the water, running

to show what shocked

them all.  This is my first

memory of how I learned

that words can kill,

the worm and string swallowed

by a being too small for the skillet,

yet condemned to death

by my belief

in my father’s teaching.

I had no way to say

how everything instantly changed

as I heard them talk;

they had given me an

impossible task

and I had completed it,

to their horror.  The poor little

fish, my mother’s distaste

and the grim look

on my father’s

face

killing the consequence

of minding

literal, careless commands,

the fish and my shared peril.

Inspired by:  Concise, Fish and Learn

Advertisements

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

7 thoughts on “A Fishing Expedition”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s