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Syndic Literary Journal


July 4th, 2020, Itasca, Illinois (V4)

(At Hamilton Lakes)

By Michael Lee Johnson

Stone caved dreams for men
past and gone, freedom fighters
blow past wind and storms.

Patriotism scared, etched in the face of cave walls.
There are no cemeteries here for the old,
vacancies for the new.

Americans incubate chunks
of patriotism over the few centuries,
a calling into the wild, a yellow fork stabs me.

Today happiness is a holiday.
Rest in peace warriors, freedom fighters,
those who simply made a mistake.

I gaze out my window to Hamilton Lakes
half-drunk with sparkling wine,
seeing lightning strikes ends,
sparklers, buckets full of fire.

Light up then dark sky, firecrackers.
Filmmakers, old rock players, fume-filled skies,
butts of dragonflies.

Patriotism shakes, rocks, jerks
across my eye’s freedom locked
in chains, stone-carved dreams.


Compiled/Published by LeRoy Chatfield
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