The Voice On the Lake

sometimes if I’m really listening, I still hear him

Rachella Barie
Dec 6, 2019 · 1 min read
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I love that lake: loved the campground

where he owned a summer trailer while

I was growing up. I loved the smoked

out windows from making grilled cheese

and writing at the picnic table where I carved

my childhood nickname into the wood

during the last year there.

Loved the bonfires sending endless smoke to the heavens

the bonfires were minutes away and somehow, heaven

didn’t seem too far beyond that.

He’s been gone for 20 years and I imagine him

growing up on that peninsula- a blonde haired man-

kind but quick tempered,

preparing the fishing poles,

riding on the trails after classes,

learning to work his first of many HAM radios.

Imagine him joining the army in communications

and then as a Sargent.

If I listen with my whole heart, I can hear him.

He gives me directions for my next steps.

Lets me know where I’ve messed up.

Calls my bluff when he needs to.

However, always whispers to my heart,

I love you.

Rachella Barie

Written by

Emotional wellness is my passion. I write about self-care, mental health, & mindfulness. I also write poetry.

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