A poem shared with me by Bruce Wilmer ...
BURNSVILLE SQUARE: 4th OF JULY WEEKEND
Solemn words and rituals
And a young lady's heart-rending
Opens the 4th of July fair,
As nearby church chimes compete.
Throughout the day,
Musicians on stage
Amplify their diverse styles
For the scattered crowd.
Young dancers pound the holiday stage
With emphatic rhythms.
Spirited children roll over and over
On the cushiony grass
And prance the green corridors
Between folding chairs
In joyful display.
Face painters transform other children
Patient enough to wait in line
Into something bright and silly.
Artists and craftsmen magnet themselves
From their canvas booths
Crammed with creations.
Sizzling, smoking barbecue tents
Summon mid-afternoon appetites
To juicy snacks
Heaped with fixin's.
Other tents tempt with frosty root beers
And fruit smoothies.
Rain hides in the clouds
But soon lets go and harvests
A wildflower field of umbrellas.
During the shower, the dulcimer player
Charms us with her melodious mix
And then poignantly concludes with
"When You and I Were Young, Maggie,"
A piece my daughter, not long before,
Had brought to life in piano and song
While exploring my late mother's
Tattered box of sheet music.
This tune pierces my heart with recall,
As memory leaps to my mother's lithe hands
Dancing over the familiar keys
In a far-off living room.
Sitting there in the town square,
I roam time's vault of small moments,
Painfully aware how priceless they turn
With each passing season.
I look at you,
In the evolving light,
Our forms pressed close
On the low circular wall,
My thoughts unconsciously scanning
Our decades together,
Unable to keep from humming once again,
Long after the dulcimer has left the stage,
"When you and I were young."
Bruce B. Wilmer
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