A Stone's Throw

by Jan Fenimore
(Rio Rancho, NM, USA)

That’s my dad.
And he’s not glad.
He’s a computer geek
Not an athlete.

Wants to try to play with me
And can actually toss a ball
But would rather not finish it up
With a stumble and a fall.

Perhaps his answer’s
In a book.
He will go and take
A look.

Next time he tries to
Play with me.
He crashes headlong
Into a tree.

Other kids ask me what
He can do that well
All I can say is at this point
It’s pretty hard to tell.

Mom says, “Take your dad outside,
He needs some fresh, clean air”
I want to help but I can see
He’s so glued to his chair.

Then on a sunny, warm spring day
We head for the lake to play.
Dad picks up a flat, smooth rock
Putting it on display.

“This is the perfect rock to skip,
Watch and see it go.”
A silly grin lights up his face
He’s got something to show.

A side-pitch stance, arm in a curve
I’m amazed as I watch it go.
That rock went on a trip.

My turn is next and so I know
I’ll give it my best try.
But when I try to skip my rock,
I feel I want to cry.

Once. Twice. Three times I try.
I pick the perfect stone.
A stance. A throw. Ready, set, go
In the lake, I fall alone.

I’ll read a book, I’ll get it right
And Dad says sure I will.
Rock skipping is harder that I thought
It really takes some skill.

Wait until I tell the guys,
Will they ever be impressed.
My dad is good at something too,
At rock skipping he’s the best.

He may be a computer geek
But now he’s also an athlete.
That’s my dad.
And now he’s glad.

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