The Third of July 2025

They’re setting fireworks off
	Across the valley at sunset,
Traces of light and distant explosions through 
	Cedar and fir, over near Independence
From the look of it, Waterfront Park,

I can’t help but wonder
	What they’re celebrating,
Because it’s not independence, nor freedom,
	Nor our long national heritage, our
History erased and rights diminished,

Independence day coming, 
	Unlike any other in two-hundred and forty-nine years,
Hollowed this year by chaos, and loss,
	The rockets red glare 
And bombs bursting in air, sure, but the flag? Gone.
	
The Fourth of July. Not this year. Not next.
	The fireworks go on, under the burning sunset,
And the only thing that rings true
	Is the finale.