Weekend Dad
I am guided into the day by a beautiful ribbon of flowing cloud streams
It looks like several jet planes left their streaks across the sky,
Each one getting a bit lower, until they nearly touched the sea.
The sea is calm, it is one of those days that you find the best shells.
I walk with my bag, optimistic that the best conch will be lying here, waiting.
I am rewarded too, it is pink, with unusual striping.
I thank the ocean, and she winks.
She is a streak of precision this morning,
as if she was drawn by an engineer’s level.
My companion is silent,
skipping ahead now and then running back to take my hand.
Her hand is soft and warm.
She is eight, my daughter, and I am thrilled she is here.
I only have her on weekends, so I am reveling in her company, loving today.
The sun is coming out slowly, peeking among the streams. Life is glorious!
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