photoart: ralph murre
RIVER
PRAYER
by
Linda Back McKay
The
old man was not really in a rowboat
under
the Mississippi River bridge.
He
was in the process of turning
inside
himself, as we all will do one day.
Inside,
he was finalizing the finished
and
unfinished business of his life.
I
just made up the part about him in a rowboat,
fishing
being some of his best times.
In
the rowboat, he tied a hook on a line,
nailed,
plugged, chopped and welded
all
the materials of his backbreaking years.
This
was great work for him and his face
was
pinched with effort. Beads of sweat
glinted
on his forehead as he gently laid
each
of the items back into the water
from
which they came, I imagine. The river
was
grateful and in return rocked him
in
its faithful current downstream
toward
home,
which
was a warm house filled with sisters
and
all his old friends and Ma right there,
there,
baking bread in the wood stove
from
a recipe in her head.
~
previously appeared in the Saint Paul
Almanac
