Casting a Line
The air was still
An odd quiet could be felt in the room
Johnny walked slowly up to the casket
His brother looked peaceful
He couldn’t glance toward his wife and their son
He wondered what she would do
The boy was only six and she would be left to raise him alone
Throughout the service, he could feel her glance his way
His eyes focused on the funeral program
His mind was on the future
As he stared into his brother’s eyes he felt the tears roll down his cheeks
How could this be true
Why did this happen?
He didn’t want to question God’s plan
He didn’t want to lose faith
He surely didn’t want to be sitting there listening to the Preacher
His brother was in his forties
This wasn’t right
It wasn’t fair
At the end of the service he was so engulfed in grief they had to call his name twice
Finally he made his way to the pulpit
He took one final look at the casket before they closed it
His brother’s eyes were closed and he looked serene
She noticed his voice trembling as he tried to remain calm
He spoke of their childhood and how they both loved to fish
When he mentioned Leopoldo’s work at the railroad
Her son smiled and blurted out “He worked on the trains, choo choo”
A few of the older ladies glared at him
She thought to herself “he is six and just lost his father”
She wondered if their children could remain tranquil at a time like this
She thought not as she glared right back shaking her head
Fifty years later that boy went home
He looked into his father’s eyes
He smelled his mother’s cooking on the stove
Grabbing two fishing poles, he reached for the bait
and in an instant
there they were
father and son
casting a line
Blessed
05/12/2021
Written for Writing Prompt-Calm- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Copyright © Evelyn Swartz | Year Posted 2021
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