July the fourth – a holiday – for some...
My brother-in-law is working hard today
to fix a backyard shed whose roof collapsed
from all the snow the winter dropped on it.
And I am there to speed, as much as I can,
this three-day project, threatening to go on...
A hurricane was sweeping up the coast,
but we up north escaped its central gyre.
The humid heat oppressed us, for a while,
and then came thunderstorms and pouring rain...
Today was cool, with showers passing through –
a pleasant day, that should be ending soon...
The sky is still alight, as evening comes.
The setting sun has painted walls in gold
and set the edges of the clouds on fire.
But as we watch, the sky is drained of light.
It turns to deepest blues and violets,
and in that deep, a quarter-moon shines bright...
And as we now approach the magic hour,
the sound of rebel fireworks can be heard.
And from a backyard, just two houses down,
there rises, of a sudden, jets of light
that arc to spreading flowers in the sky.
The reds and whites and purples shower down...
The final screw goes in as night arrives.
I take my leave and walk towards my home.
I see the west is still aglow with light,
and as I walk, I hear and see the sounds
and sparkling bursts of light that those, who dare,
set off – although these things have long been banned.
On reaching home, I climb up darkened stairs
and see the light beneath the hallway door.
I fumble with the key and enter in
and see the wife is there. The TV set
that quietly sits all year is brightly lit,
with fireworks, songs and music pouring out.
2014 July 5th, Sat., 5:15 am Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York