13 Scenes from Independence Days of the Past, Present and Future
A Poem 7/4/22
Modeled after Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens, this poem honors my mother who taught poetry with this exercise when I was but a sprout in her classroom, raising my hand and my objections.
I
Among the midsommer cicadas and fireflies
cake-candles flicker, reflected in young eyes
Night shrouds an echoing mountain-lake amphitheater
Prepared for bursts of light, our grandmother is surrounded by family
II
On empty highways, the best route home is taken
No gathering today - ease of travel rules
Besides, echoes of anxiety ring in our ears
The world is changing
III
No football field to kneel on
so I take small risks
where I can
People claim their independence from me
I hold my heart back from fireworks
and ooohs and ahhhhs
Nobody’s free
IV
Through masks and optimism
we fly our hearts like flags
Innocence hopes in inoculation
Death a swift-moving current across the nation,
Yet, Fly, Blue Angels!
over our home town
and silence our fears for one deafening moment.
We still want to believe in greatness
even when we can’t see it now
V
A blackbird follows me everywhere
She stands and hosts the landscapes
like a sentry at the edge of the scenes
My womb is suddenly a battlefield
a blood-stained vista of reenactors
possessed by ghosts of the past
VI
Three snakes in three days
Don’t tread
No man can be trusted now
no matter how beloved
They cannot know
what celebration?
I am a black bird
I am a snake
I will strike
VII
A young mom rides her bike in a beach parade
curly headed firstborn in the caboose
Life is as she imagined in part
Let freedom ring
Her heart is already tangled
but she has not learned to notice
yet
VIII
Across the pond in a Yorkshire manse
parishioner greetings drop pit-pat through the mail slot
in a blue door
Happy Fourth! Congratulations!
English “older-siblings” are too polite to say,
“Don’t make our mistakes.”
IX
Today is July 4th
some friends are wearing black
some are drinking beer
I am writing poetry alone
in an Airbnb
X
Earth and Women aching as one
Powers and Principalities
exact their heavy phalli
How you treat her is how you treat us
XI
My pain does not compare
I am not called to compare
but pay attention
and the resilience of Black and Brown people
is my greatest teacher
XII
In a VW named “hunny”
we traverse the grand country
in awe and wonder
Park after park, miles of days and nights
A hummingbird enters the van and hovers before my eyes
Love overflows for this land, my home
XIII
I have become Belonging
I walk in her presence
Pain can stay or go
Circumstances can deliver or disappoint
I listen, the trees know my name
I have independence and interdependence
Breath is a gift
We and I
I and we lie down in the field
and the universe fills every cell.