My poet friend, Dennis Lange, has captured the heart of the 4th of July celebration in this poem. I want to share it with my readers as well.

The Bard on the Hill

I wrote this poem last summer during a
severe drought that caused officials to
cancel 4th of July fireworks displays
because of dry conditions creating extreme
fire hazards.
****************************************

The Quiet And Dry Fourth Of July

Tis quiet, this night – the valley down below
Brings forth no crackling sounds, no sudden glow.
There is no rocket’s burst to bloom a flare.
Like patient’s room filled with death’s doom – tis bare.

The silence on this night is keenly heard,
So out of place, a muted singing bird.
This night is for a celebration, wild;
Instead the sights and sounds are strangely mild.

The Texas drought produced a fireworks ban.
With trees and grass so tender that they can
Explode in flames from just a tiny spark,
And rage till rain enough to raise the ark.

And so, across the valley from my deck,
The Fourth comes forth from out a strangled neck,

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