I wish you were here to see
Those beautiful, black, angry clouds that rolled in
Taking over the morning sky today in mere minutes and
The sight of Daddy, running to the big truck
Holding onto his white hat, yellow rain pants bright and
Blurring in the eerie, dark light.
I wish you could hear
The sound of crashing rain and clanging
Tomato buckets as Val and I piled them up
In the back of the big truck and sat there, in pitch black
Hoping tents would not fall on us as
Daddy drove back on the road.
I wish you could see
The rain through the hole in the truck floor as
It caught the light of the back lights and
Sparked, like firecrackers…
I wish you could look
Across the potato field, as I did, and see
Kazami wrap a potato in wet, black mud and
Toss it happily between his hands
A little boy, once again.
And as I caught wet watermelon from Daddy
Diving for some, squatting low for the heavy ones –
I remembered you protectively blocking my face as
Daddy’s quick tosses led to a terrifying showering of melons
Last Friday – your last harvest of the summer – and
I wished you were still here,
Smiling down at me from the bed of the truck,
Hands up, waiting for the throw.