Bill Cushing

Fourth of July 1981

Clouds, like a herd of whales, 

dark bellies passing overhead,

wheel and turn, moving northeast.

I stand beneath that majestic entourage

Watching, at dusk on the Fourth of July,

while the children down the street stop

 

lighting Roman candles, running 

to seek the shelter of porch roofs 

as Nature’s fireworks outdo Man’s.

part of A Former Life from Finishing Line Press