The Last Canoe Ride
Ruth Z. DemingSimon could do anything with those
big hands of his. Fix the plumbing,
work as a computer programmer, eat
a big bacon and egg breakfast IŽd
make for him.
We went down to the lake and
rented a canoe. The lap-lap sound
of the oars was unforgettable,
as was the feel of the water
when I trailed my fingers through.
Mallard ducks swam with us and then
flew away. A year later, Simon flew
away too. To a big black hole in
the sky, taking me with him, for
a little while.
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