~ The Stingrays & Dad ~ Poem by Karol Bashline

~ The Stingrays & Dad ~



On one, specific - magical day, my dad looked at me and said…
The weather is calling our name kid,
We could go clamming. Are you up for a day on the bay?

Walking down the beach: ice chest, fish-heads, tubes, nets and shovels –
are tossed in the boat and he launches it as I start the motor with one swift pull.

I sit down with my hand on the throttle and he smiles
I'm ten now - been a captain since I was eight – and he has never looked so pleased.
I grin back and as the hypnotic waters slapping the boat kept my smile in place,
I can taste the salty air, and feel the ocean spray gliding over my face.
I steer toward Seal Island, my wrist twists clockwise, my fingers turn white,
as I rotate the throttle - traveling with speed.

Standing on the clamming tube, I hold dad’s hands, and swiftly rock from side to side.
The tube slides down and next comes shovels and the cold wet sand as I
finally grab the neck of that clam.

“Got it”, I yell, but now I’m standing in water and dad yells as he heads to the boat.
The tide’s coming in quick… you better start moving and make sure you don’t step in holy sand.

With food in sight, I’m consumed with eating lunch, and watching seals play in nearby waters.
I hadn’t even noticed we’d floated off the island then suddenly

something caught my eye, and I saw them, when I looked over my left shoulder.
Three beautiful stingrays, gracefully gliding like butterfly’s across the top of the water.
Finally breaking free, I look up at my father and he smiles, brushing my hair to one side.

Now we sit in the hospital awaiting his surgery and I think back to that day in the bay.
A day without IV’s - without treatments - without the tears
and pray for more time in the sand.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success