Sunday, July 4, 2010

too quiet



The only time I notice the traffic is when there is none, It is a very eerie feeling, and asI pause for a moment, "Has the world stopped and no one bothered to tell me?"
Too quiet, for any Sunday, but especially for the 4th of July.

Unlike the cap gun and firecrackers under tin cans I remember,
the curling black coils of carbon snakes light on the cement landing, their stains remand for months even though the first breezes destroyed the "snake". The grown-ups who set of whole rolls of caps, bur wacking them with a hammer, then swore they "would never do that again"
and promptly did when their ears stopped ringing.

Flags flying in every yard, bunting on every store, as we made the trip into town.
there was only one store open but it sold all the wonders of childhood including caps
for my six shooter, sparklers, Roman candles. ice cream, pop, hot dogs...yep everything
including toys.



I should have bought some fireworks.

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