Poem: 4th


4th

I go, at times, to the fireworks
because others want to, Melissa
in recent years, who loves them
herself, and I do not want to steal
from her that, but I cannot see
the same way as she does,
instead, only wonder how
it is we think to commemorate
the solemnity of victory in war,
the founding of our nation after
bloody conflict fought with weapons
of gunpowder and flame, the very
implements we flagrantly blast
towards the sky, as though
this violence against the air itself
has different meaning.  Perhaps
it does, but I cannot see it,
but, of course, I am colorblind.

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