A poem for July 4th

Here's a poem from my new manuscript "The War Years,"

Ben Franklin Nods in San Francisco


Our poets’ cries for peace had been smothered

in the huge hurricane for war that swept across our country.

Still after the U.S. tanks glided into Baghdad in April and

the President declared victory standing on an aircraft carrier,

we six poets gathered on the grass in Washington Park next

to the statue of Ben Franklin in North Beach, attempted

to light our peace candles, saw the wind blew them all out;

still we relit the candles as we spoke, Quaker-style,

how still we stood against the war; I swear I saw

Ben Franklin that old protestor from Quaker Philadelphia nod

approval as all six of us busily began to relight

all our candles; I swear that Lincoln sitting in his

Memorial stood up for a moment to salute us in San Francisco,

swear that Washington in Mt. Rushmore turned his face

westward toward us in praise, they all wanted

their old republic back just as we did in Washington Park

despite all the harsh winds of war we relit and

relit our candles again until all six blazed forth.