I want to like the fireworks.
Though, they keep reminding me
of the bombs.
I remember when my mother
dressed me up as Betsy Ross,
in a frilly and striped, flag colored dress,
and pulled me down the street
in a little red wagon.
I loved waving the flag then.
Now, I don’t want to salute the injustice.
My husband tells me,
“Don’t let them take the flag from you.
It’s your country, and your symbol, too.”
It’s getting harder and harder to believe.
here
By Kimberly Wilder
July 3, 2010
Filed under: Art, Holidays, kimberly wilder, local, long island, Long Island Politics, personal, poetry, politics, progressive politics, rants, US Politics, war Tagged: | 4th of July, 4th of July poem, American flag, Betsy Ross, fireworks, flag, Fourth of July, holiday, Long Island Poetry, Peace, Poems, poetry, war
I had a bit of shock of recognition with this one.
Good poem – straight forward and from the heart. In New Orleans in the black neighborhoods there’s a tradition of discharging firearms on the 4th – dangerous but closer to reality than sparklers.
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