Skies over Brooklyn were a sight to see
A painter gone crazy with a palette full of colors
slashing and twirling with a brush in hand
Saucy little candles drawing streaks of light
As they ran assunder
with no end in sight
4th of July splendour to honor freedom
dear as it was
Driving through the streets of Brooklyn, an immigrant meltpot
Hesidic Jews, Latinos, Pakistanis, Arabs and all
Necks craned upward, lined up against a wall
Rich and poor; old and new
All entranced and affixed, yet nothing to express
Glued to a spot, speechless and breathless
by the overhead show that was!
Then the sirens, and a flashing ambulance rushes past
Following at its heel an array of police cars
The spell is broken; the show is over
People disperse
some coverse
whispering and complaining wanting to return
to the splendour that was
Baghdad 2003
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