A Dull Day for Fish and Family

We laughed that day
as siblings do
though you are not my blood.

But, you are my blood's,
and that was enough for us
three sisters and one brother-in-law,
to head out in a car
on that spring Monday.

So we drove
through the light trickle
falling from the darkening clouds.
Joyous thunder rumbled from our bellies,
shaking the car
and matching the distant lightning
in that vast, Memorial Day sky.

Over the radio we heard it:
"Turn around, don't drown."

Was it meant to be serious?
the rhyme caused a chuckle;
the thought of a Texas rain
so heavy
that it might swallow us up
and cast us off
caused a ripple of smirks and exchanged glances.
It couldn't be true;
exaggerated warnings
couldn't keep us from our fishing day.

We hiked down to the river,
its wide water
reaching a bit higher than last time,
its color more murky brown,
and its rush significantly louder
than before.

We packed up early
and headed home
safe and sound
because it was a dull day for fish.
Had the bass and trout known, then,
that hiding against that current
would mean life or death?
Had they known, then,
what the next day's headline would read:
"Family of Five Found Dead in River Flood?"

We would exchange glances once again,
as we had the day before,
but now with a different tone.
Ashamed of our childish jesting,
relieved that we had left while we still could,
angered by our own ignorance,
and lamenting for someone else's siblings,
whom we did not know,
but knew
would never see the gift of many days
as we had thus far,
we silently promised one another
that we would never
let go.