I flick the channels, set the volume.
Ahh this one! Boston Esplanade.
David Lee Roth, knees hiking like a majorette,
followed by a Dream Girl, pinned by the spotlight.
A raven, her wings spread wide in song.
Flag waving crowds scream
'God Bless America' with the Pops
as we celebrate our tea tossing break
from the Brits and King George.
Arthur Fiedler and the 1812 cannons
are gone, lost to towering screens
beaming instant play to TV and crowd.
The finale of red, white and green
sparks rise, mushroom the sky,
then fall to the silent deep of the Charles.
We were there once. Remember?
Blue blanket spread across trampled
gray grass, hearts bursting
with the thundering shells.
You kissed me-- then for forever.
Poetry Index II
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