I’ve read of the blistering Philly heat
our forefathers braved to meet
to declare one nation to be free
of another’s tyranny

so in the midst of this summer season
we happily have a good reason
to sing of rockets red glare
see fireworks bursting in air.

Yesterday I got a tear in my eye
when I saw walking by
two guys, one a lot older
with a folded flag strapped to his shoulder.

I wondered why he’d done that,
then remembered: my uncle’s hat
emblazoned with the stars and stripes
and his funeral and the bag pipes

that played America and amazing grace
and could see the proud look on his face
as he saluted at the fly-by’s roar
to honor his country on July four.

- Dedicated to my new friend, Dave Bates

07/02/2011

Author's Note: I sent to the members of our new poetry group a poetic challenge, adapted from Bruce Niedt's library to: write a poem whose title has a number, and write about that number. The above is my response to that poetic prompt. See: http://www.PoetryInProgress.net for information about our group.

Posted on 07/02/2011
Copyright © 2025 Glenn Currier