Firecracker

I am 26 trying
To keep an eye
On my three sons
As they explode
Fourth of July
Firecrackers
By a country
Road on a gravel
Surface blowing
Up plastic models
They have hoarded
All year for this event.
Ships, planes, spacecraft,
All are their targets as
They insert the explosive
Firecrackers into each
Plastic model and all
Stand back to watch
The result as dusk
Slowly settles and
It is time for us to
Return to town
So they can
Tell their
Mom
How exciting
It all was and how
She has missed it again,
She gives me the look
And I hope she will
Not say, "Simply
Unacceptable.”
Her ultimate
Act of
Northern
Virginia condemnation.
But she only stares
At me for my part
In enabling our
Sons to enjoy
Such a
Violent form
Of celebration,
It is painfully clear
She was an only child
And has no concept of a
Young boy’s idea of fun.
Impossible to explain
To her about boys
And blowing up
Toy models
By the
Road
As we all
Laugh and
Dance about
Waiting for the next
Ship or plane to
Bite the dust
Until dusk
Sends us
Home.
Hard
To explain
The sheer joy
This brings to boys
Ages six, nine and thirteen.
Stuntmen on holiday
Risking the danger
As I insist they
Take turns
And not
Light
A firecracker
As their brothers
Are setting a
Firecracker
Charge
In a
Model
Unawares
Of the loud bang
About to make
Them jump
Straight
Up in
The air.
Yes, dangerous
Senseless and violent
But boys are not
Made for tea
Parties and
Dress up,
At least
Not in
1973
In Texas.
True, they
Did all join the army,
Become Sergeants and
Engage in combat hot
Or cold but I am
Sure this had
Nothing to
Do with
All the
War games
We played or
Plastic models we
Blew up when
They were
Kids and
Teens.
We
Are what
We consume
Food or fun
Better or
Worse
And
I
Must
Owe up
To my part
Being the best
Dad I knew how
As a nineteen year
Old with two sons or
A 21-year-old with three.
I regret nothing,
We all of us
Did the
Best
We
Could at the time.
And we had
A good
Deal
Of
Fun too.
They were
Always good
Boys and fine men,
What more
Could a
Parent
Ask?