A feeling of being there

Yet a feeling from the past

Brought forth today by a simple event.

A wonderful feeling of light weight

I am once again young.

It wasn’t a tent at all, really, at least by today’s standards. Still, it was a wonder for my young self, 8 or 9 years old. It was a shelter, of sorts. A lean-to made of sticks, two old army ponchos, and a tarp on the ground. The best part was that we built it, we three. It was Dad, my brother, and myself with our hands, a hand ax, and some rope. As I took a moment to look at what we built, I was excited, making little hops, and a little bit afraid. It wasn’t just a shelter. It was to be my shelter for my first night under the stars.

It was only two days ago

Yet the joy still fills me.

We were immersed in study

I the teacher

They the students

Eager to learn

And they were eager.

For want of a 3 dollar part

the water flowed too fast

It no longer gurgled

or washed gently over the hands

It was filled with violence

Splashing out of the sink

Soaking everything on the counter

Running onto the floor.

Appalled, heart-broken, shocked

Angry, lost, unsure

Does any of it matter?

The president and others incited a riot

More, it was insurrection!