This year’s 4th of July celebrations did little for me.
Much flag waving seemed phony, some neighborhood camaraderie felt forced.
I ached as U.S. ICE raids continued, as civilian deaths mounted in too many armed conflicts.
I wanted to skulk away, to forego my allegiance to much of anything.
But I remain part of a wider whole. Whatever my pique at political or social shenanigans,
I do not have the option to resign from humanity.
So I briefly retreated to gardens that nourish me, some of whom I tend:
I admired walkway African lilies (agapanthus), most likely planted
When our 1970’s housing subdivision took shape over a decommissioned firing range.
This time of year, blue and white agapanthus blooms adorn our nearby streets,
Their starbursts quieter, more calming, less ephemeral than fireworks.
Within my own yard, I reveled in two sets of red blooms:
Along a sunny side fence, snapdragons from last year. They’d overwintered
In this mild climate where distinctions between “annual” and “perennial”
Get increasingly blurred.
Against the opposite fence, impatiens, cut-rate at the
Distressed rack of a local garden shop, now hold forth in most-of-day shade.
One day per year serves me as reminder of our nation’s independence. On other days,
I’d rather honor our interdependence with a natural world that graciously includes us.
May we continue to reconcile independence and interdependence, wherever we are.
Hurrah for the red, white, and blue, whether flags or flowers!
Jinny's Occasional Poems 