The patriotic citizens of Tonkawa, Oklahoma,
Popped so many fireworks today that the air,
Wiped clean by unseasonal rain, was sulfurous
And rank by the clearing early evening.
My practical, construction-worker neighbor
Roars off in his wet, black pickup,
A huge American flag flapping from the bumper
In the midsummer light prairie wind.
On the far side of this tiny town, around 9 o’clock,
Chinese rockets rise into the darkening sky,
Shatter into patterns of brilliant color
Tracking bright paths to the damp ground.
Later, I stand beside my quiet backyard pool
And watch the air bubble through the blue water.
The wind rustles the surface like a wheat field,
My soul like a trumpet slowly sounding Taps.
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