I stand so small, below a ledge I spy;
A calm lake sitting quiet nearby.
With evergreen tops I gaze up at towering pines,
And a lingering presence of peace I shall keep as mine.
I take a deep breath and inhale freedom of the land,
Then I slide down the hillside with a fishing pole in hand.
He was gathering supplies in the tackle box above,
But I had vanished out of sight, acting as the impatient daughter I was.
I was ready to fish, for he had shown me once before,
So I casted it far into the shallow blue shore.
Before I knew, a mother of four paddled towards the sandy bank,
They were quacking so hungrily but soon to make an unfortunate mistake.
One duckling paddled by and at the bobber it looked,
Then he swam underwater and swallowed the hook.
The small duck squawked in pain as it flapped around the tide,
Then the mother grew worried and furious as the flocking family cried.
I let out a yell for help and shouted out his name,
My father heard my worried voice and shortly after came.
He grabbed the pole and reeled the small creature up to shore,
He then looked at me and told me I could fish no more.
A tool in the tackle box was able to free the baby from the pain,
But by dad was left sorely beaten from the angry mother’s reign.
After all was over, the family paddled off in serenity,
I now thank my dad for fixing my mistake and fighting to protect me.