We spoke for hours that dusty cloud day,
Grandfather and I in a dented rowboat,
Fishing lines poised over a cool, still lake,
Trolling shallow.
Yet with water surrounding,
We caught by surprise, threads interweaving,
To something deeper, a gathering place.
Respect,
Understanding,
Love.
Jo-Anne Teal, Writer 
Your quadrille is a breath of fresh air, Jo-Anne! I love the image of a dented rowboat, trolling shallow and interweaving threads to create a treasured memory.
Thanks so much, Kim. )
I loved the opening stanza — I enjoy narratives. I got lost in the end however, I imagined your fishing lines interweaving as your life with your grandfather interweaved. I guess I was waiting for the story to reflect “respect, understanding, love” instead of being told it. Maybe I am mistaken, Great set up, though, for me. Maybe I missed a lot of symbolic nuance.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Sabio. I know what you mean. It seemed a bit clipped but with only 44 words, I couldn’t find a way to round it out further.
you captured a beautiful moment with so few words
Thanks so much, Gina, for your kind words.
Never been fishing, but I’ve come to think this is what it’s all about. Memories and togetherness. Nicely done😊
Pat
Thanks, Pat. It’s surprising how conducive fishing is to sharing thoughts. Mind you, it’s been many years since I was myself in a row boat 🙂
At least you’ve had the experience::))
Very nice. I like the thought of being caught while trying to catch fish and being caught by respect, understanding and love.
Thanks so much, Frank. You honed in on the exact thing I was trying to bring together in this wee poem! .
I know that there is always more to fishing than the catch… this is just lovely.
Thank you, Björn, for your kind words and encouragement. :))