Sparklers flaring
A burn on my arm
I stick with snakes
for years after that
Breakfast at Wimbledon
Glorious Sundays when
American gents have
tussled before Brits
Fire truck siren
circles the park
leading a parade of
crêpe paper spokes
Capitol lawn
sprawled with Riesling
Stars & Stripes
(and traffic) Forever
Miniature flags
in pots on the porch
Red, white and blue
We’re home, We’re free
***
A “list” poem, prompted by Margo Roby. Thanks, Margo!
This is fun, Karin. I have been in both England and DC for the 4th and enjoyed both places for their celebrations. Our four years watching the fireworks over the Washington Monument are perhaps the most special.
I like all the different imagery you use to put us in the scene.
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Thanks, Margo! I bet the DC Mall is great for the 4th! DC is one of our favorite long-weekend getaways, but I think we’ve avoided it on national holidays, anticipating the crowds! You’ve inspired me, though. 🙂
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This is a wonderful poem. (I grew up in D.C.) The spokes on the bikes and fire trucks and the sparkler burn and snakes especially vivid for me. Wonderfully simple but vivid. Thanks much for the memories! k.
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I had an irrational fear of sparklers for a very long time. 🙂 Thanks for the kind words, Karin!
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Not so irrational! I was never burned by a sparkler but did have a firework go off backward, setting fire a dress I was wearing. Luckily, it was some kind of material where it sparked and burned only a tiny glowing bit– and it missed my legs. But they can be super scary.
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Aack! That would be scary!
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