Sunburnt shoulders ache.
Mosquito bitten ankles itch.
The faint sulfur smell of spent firecrackers
rises with the dew.
The damp flags that line our street
flap occasionally in
star-spangled splendor.
Soft wind flutters drooping leaves
and swirls the gray haze hanging over the water.
Dogs emerge tentatively
amazed to have survived last night’s
near-certain armageddon.
We pack our July fourth
left-overs into a cooler,
top off the half-melted ice.
We throw on still soggy swim suits,
still sandy flip-flops,
and drive the lake road
into a bleary-eyed sunrise.
Back to the beach again.
LakeTown, USA 