All rise for
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER
My mother was against it.
Five thousand dollar bicentennial grant
used to build a bandstand
on the village field.
Better spent: books for the library.
She and Polly, two middle-aged library aides, considered
graffiti, shook cans of red spray paint:
“This Bicentennial Gazebo Sucks.”
(now the band has overflowed the stand;
the percussionists stand under an awning off the back.)
I throw a worn quilt down for the children.
THE WASHINGTON GRAYS MARCH
The heads around me are white–
white as my father’s; I search for him
in the crowd. I recognize no one,
no face, his generation (or mine.)
Feet move, canes rap.
IN THE MOOD
Mother’s dance a twisting dance
holding their babies’ hands.
A stooped woman takes a toddler’s hand,
twirl and laugh, twirl and laugh.
There are more couples here,
more old men than one might expect.
Light changes, gold.
THE BELLE OF THE BALL
A young girl, hair the color
of an Irish setter, falling to her waist,
skin the color of skim milk,
steps away with a black and white dog
and a boy whose head just reaches her shoulder.
They go the edge of the field to smoke.
She returns with a small bouquet
of wildflowers, curtsies,
presents them to a woman with
a copper bowl of hair.
Coughs, paper flutter.
PUTTIN’ ON THE RITZ
A man runs, pulling a small daughter by the hand.
A toddler runs, laughing, ahead.
Scurry, scurry, scoot.
Scoop up a laugh.
Salmon sky–blue and pink–no moments unchanged.
PAVANNE
Sun falls through branches beside the brook.
Clouds light, flicker, wait for stars.
White birch limbs, bared by last year’s ice
frame the steeple beyond the field.
Up, up, up, teach the children to lift their knees.
BARNUM & BAILEY'S FAVORITE MARCH
Girls do bent-leg cartwheels behind the drums.
A gold puppy, arriving late, pulls
his children around the bandstand
in the quick-step parade.
“It’ll cool off, sure,
and then the bugs’ll come out.”
INTERMISSION
"Try this, it works pretty good,
put some on your ankles, there, wrist, neck.”
The field hockey team arrives clattering.
THE CHILDREN OF THE REGIMENT
Hockey sticks and tennis rackets,
boys with coke and chips.
Chairs fill for a moment,
then all race to run and climb
on each other’s backs in the
the settling light.
Stillness, distant voices.
IT'S THE GOSPEL
The girl with milk white hands
presses a bundle of ferns
and daisies into the hands
of the grandmother
enthroned.
Dark, chill.
UNDER THE BOARDWALK
Children bundle down,
thumbs and blankets,
blue-black sky.
Wind, flickers, crying, gone.
CRIMEBUSTERS
Alan, who is 38 and cannot read,
waits by his bike to give a program
to any last stragglers in.
A hand clasps my shoulder
THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC
Welcome home.
The children begin the circling lope around the bandstand.
–fine–
March, run, march, clap in rhythm, clap.
ENCORE
Stand, clap, march, run.
THE STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER
Struggle, fold blanket, chairs, gather cups;
little street a moment busy;
let the too friendly cat out of
the barn.
