He slowly rowed the
small boat
to the middle of the lake
never saying where
he was going
Just knowing what to take
Peace and solitude
It was a favorite
way to escape
He went quietly
without a sound
his plan taking shape
No one around
to question his actions
No fear of his daughter
Hell to pay
if she only knew of
his smoke on the water
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
In response to Tuesday Writing Prompt from Go Dog Go Cafe – Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)