Yard Sale of Thoughts

4th of July beach day,

blue tie-dyed waves

become sparklers in the break.

Self-evident sands extinguish

their flames.

I hear a cheer and bite my tongue.

4th of July beach day,

vodka lemonade and pop-up tent

shade, I sit below and hold truths

older than myself,

much less constrained,

to be created equal,

capable of withstanding a shifting shoreline

as my white sand dollar toes

go numb in the rising surf.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

What my country’s worth.

I watch it ebb. I think of its birth.

As overhead bombs burst,

and I remember we were

never comfortable with complacency;

we were survivors first.

© 2024 | K.F. Hartless

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