sitting on the dock.
toes in the water.
my favorite t-shirt on (the one with the hole in the collar.)
the mosquitoes are chewing me up, but I ignore them
because I want to stay here,
listening to the creaking cicadas,
watching my husband fishing.
conversing with God in my head
like He's sitting right next to me.
I'm thinking about the people in my life that I don't think about often enough.
the Barred Owl hooting in the woods is making me melancholy
he must spend a lot of time selfishly thinking about himself too
wondering where his next meal is and deciding whether he's comfortable or not.
there is an airplane trail searing its way through the sunset.
I think about the people up there.
where they are going,
whether they can see the little pond.
maybe it looks like a bright jewel, adorning earth's green neck.
or maybe it looks like a blue spot on the ground.
or maybe they can't see it at all.
Charlie hasn't caught anything.
my toes are getting pruny
the mosquitoes are whining in my ear because they know it's annoying.
I am tracking the catfish's movements beneath the pondweed.
he is such a graceful fellow.
if I were a fish, I would be a catfish,
eating up little minnows
and reigning supreme over the pond.
God was certainly being creative when he made such diverse beings:
the Owl and the Catfish. and Me.
the twilight is deepening into darkness,
frogs are bidding each other goodnight.
my husband pulls the boat in,
I call the dog.
We head home, tired and happy --
looking forward to another evening of
sitting on the dock
