Fire Dancing – National Poetry Month – April 13th

April is National Poetry Month. I’m going to attempt to write one poem every day this month. Today’s poem: 13/30 – April 13th.

Fire Dancing

We’re in the middle of nowhere,
Or so it seems

Potholes State Park – Moses Lake, Washington
Camping on our own mini island of sand

The sky,
e x p a n s i v e
It seems as if there are an infinity of stars
Blanketing the sky

My amazing step-dad, Frank, worked for Duroboat
Receiving one as a bonus
We had scores of adventures in that sweet lil boat

It took several trips in Frank’s
Bright yellow Duroboat
Transporting us and supplies
From the parking lot
To our island

One trip for a person or two
With the first load of supplies
Another trip or two for more supplies
More people

First order of business
Toilet paper roll slid onto a branch
With a hole dug for the call of nature

Gusts of wind so powerful,
At times flattening the tents
Dare not open your mouth facing the wind
Unless you enjoy a mouth packed with sand

Campfire going
Music on
Bloody Marys tipped back
Dinner cooked and eaten
S’mores next
Drenched in wine
Dancing around the campfire
Nearly falling into the fire

The Duroboat running out of gas
On the way from our mini island
Back to the parking lot

My handsome first love — Jim
Jumping in the frigid water,
Attempting to tread water plus tow the boat
Going nowhere fast

More laughing

Along comes a sightseeing ferry
Passengers pointing, having a good ole laugh
At our silly butts in that lil Duroboat
They toss a line to us
Give us a tow
They take pictures of us
We take pictures of them
A mutual good time
More laughter

The smell of campfire
Reminds me of celebrations
Enjoying life with my mom and Frank
My step-sister, Heather
Step-brother, Tony
My brother, Robert
Good times
Coming together
Letting loose
Crazy times

Gratitude that we got to experience
These times with each other

The smell of a campfire
Reminds me of that time I nearly
Danced into the fire
Camilla Downs, 2024

(Photo of me and my step-dad, Frank. Not camping but around the same time, early 90’s.)

**Prompt: Write a poem that features a memory of a smell.

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