Fourth of July, River Park

As kids whiz by on their bicycles,
streamers floating from handlebars
like birds, like dreams,
grown-ups walking slowly behind,
heading for the parade that winds
through the neighborhood,
we oldies exercise as we do
weekly on Marilyn’s lawn.

We’re seeing more humanity,
along with canine and feline life
than we do most Tuesdays
as the neighbors on this
not-too-hot holiday morning
come out to celebrate.

Shelley has us on our toes bouncing,
squeezing squishy spheres with fingertips,
hoisting small hand weights overhead,
all to the sounds of American music,
not marches but old rock ‘n’ roll—
Aretha, the Righteous Brothers, the Stones,
a little twist and shout pre-Beatles.

We exercise our independence,
find joy in this coming together,
wave to the passersby,
the trees overhead beautifully leafy,
so different than the cold winter days
that found us out here well wrapped,
longing for shorts weather,
the opportunity to bare our knees freely,

on a perfect summer day just like this.