Near the Potomac river, the tray of warm food were
placed on the table for supper, its smell filled the blue tent shed.
Near the table, the single burner stove was steaming a large bowl of
pulao rice, its smell wafted all through the shed.
The soft music from the Bose speaker reached my ears as
The cool and fresh spring air blew across from the river.
People talked about everything in the fresh easterly winds at the shore.
Low, dark clouds boiled overhead and lightning flashed and thunder,
rolled down the river side signaling the approaching rain.
The sky still looked dark and gloomy,
with a gust of wind against trees, leaves flying all over.
I stood under the tent for shelter,
And looked up as it flapped and,
waved in the wind and sagged lower and
lower under the weight of pouring rain.
I felt the cool water run over my feet as I
stood holding on to the tent, all soaked and dripping wet.
The runoff water rose rapidly up to my ankles and,
flooded the ground carrying dirt and loose branches
The earthen drain was turned into a small creek,
making its way into the river.
I walked up through the woods, pants rolled up to my knees, chairs on my back,
dripping wet umbrella over my head, and made towards the car.
The smell of good food, the rhythmic dance to the music, the dark billowing clouds,
the rattling peal of thunder, the torrential downpour,
everything reminds me of that day.