The Fisherman’s Wife

Photo by Daria Nepriakhina via Unsplash

Gone before dawn, you are gone
before dawn every morning. You:
out on water with someone who isn’t me
while I sleep — restless in your absence.

Growing up, my father left with the sun
and the seasons. I always knew I’d never love anyone
who wore a suit because of him:
clothes and hands muddied with the dirt of his farm.