Original DDE™ surreal art: “To Dream To Fish” by: rob kistner © 10/10/23
T he fat-bellied black iron stove delivered its amazing breakfast. Shivering a smile, midst the damp Ontario predawn, I’m led by the hissing Coleman’s light, down to dad’s docked fishing boat. You cannot pluck moonlight to bring in your pocket Bobby, he’d say, so it’ll be lantern magic. Gripping cold aluminum hull, I climb aboard, bundled as a bear, including life jacket. That moonlit water’s freezing.
My heart soars as I hear my dad tug on the starter rope, bringing the Evinrude to spark, then roar, readying it to propel us into the dawn that would soon slowly roll over the chop-water. I lovingly grip the cork handle of my favorite pole, as I feel the mist of hull-spray light on my cheeks. Another slight shiver brings me full awake, but not from the chill. This one is pure excitement… today I fish with Dad!
rob kistner © 10/10/2020
Poems at: dVerse
I so enjoyed this one, Rob! Being a daughter, I never had that kind of relationship with my father; I love the thought of breakfast from a fat-bellied black iron stove and fishing by moonlight. That’s a wonderful alliterative phrase, ‘bundled as a bear’!
Thank you Kim. An eighth-grade-educated, blue-collar, hard working outdoorsman, with a heart of absolute gold — my adoptive father was/is/always will be my hero… in so so many ways. Hd showed me what the beautiful, meaningful core of life looked like. My memories of him helped guide the way I raised and loved my 3 children. They benefited from my miraculously good luck of being adopted by him.
So sad. Some people should never have children, not if it’s only to ignore them and make them miserable.
My father was the only adult in my adoptive family with whom I could feel safe from abuse. The grand mother who lived with us was a true paranoid schizophrenic, and my adoptive mother was cold, and mentally abusive to me. Finally getting to go fishing with my father, when I turned 7 years old, was a moment of dreams for me. I fished with him every time he went from that day on. He also taught me how to string a fishing reel, cast a fishing rod, gut a fish, properly pack a backpack, camp, pitch a tent, safely and effectively build and cook on an outdoor wilderness fire, chop wood and gather kindling in the wilderness, read a map, understand a compass, sharpen a hatchet, safely use an open and close camping knife, orienteer by the stars, and to survive if ever lost in the wilderness. He also gave me my first rod and reel, my first camping knife, and my first binoculars. Those last 3 were incredible Christmases. And he took us to an amazing island in Canada for two weeks, twice every summer, to fish. He co-owned the island with a wonderful Italian/Canadian family. While in Canada he taught me how to seine for minnows to use as live bait. I loved my adoptive father fiercely, and will always. I do not understand your comment Jane. Perhaps you misunderstood the meaning of my poem. If in fact you did, maybe this comment will help you better understand how wonderful and incredible my father was. You’re right, some people should not have children, but my adoptive father was not one of them.
I really hope this wasn’t just a dream but if so, you’ve skillfully brought it to fruition here. I felt the calm of the moonlight and a nostalgic element. Very nicely done, Rob. Love the way you worked in the line so naturally.
Thsnk you Mish. It was in fact, a beautiful dream come true — over and over again. Read my response in the comments here that I made to Jane Dougherty, you’ll get a better idea of what fishing with my father was like.
He was clearly a gem! 🙂
Yes he was Mish… 🙂
He was clearly a gem!! So glad the dream was a reality for you, Rob. Beautiful memories…
**Please ignore the duplicate of this comment that was strangely punctuated. Sorry.
No problem… 🙂
What a wonderful description with all those details of the Coleman and the Evinrude.
Thank you Björn. Easy to write from beautiful, still vivid memories.
Rob, I’m sure you will be fishing with your dad again. Beautiful digital art of you as a child, revisiting those happy memories.
Yes Lisa. He and I will fish the Milky Way together. Thank you my friend.
Oh my goodness. Or you can ignore the last one..hahaha….as I’m not seeing the error now. Having some technical difficulties tonight!
I adjusted your error Mish… 😉
What a beautiful memory, Rob. You’ve put me right there with you feeling the cold, the aluminum, the excitement.
Cool Cris, glad you could join. 🙂