Dad wiped sweat from his sunburned neck
Mom's covered dish came around for him to pass
At that picnic on the 4th eating homemade fried chicken
Seasoned with the smell of the fresh cut football grass

The whole town showed up on Independence Day
At the football field across the road from Junior high
The memory’s clear, it was his fifth grade year
He saw the Fireworks exploding into spiders in the sky

Growing up in a perfect location
Small town suburbs, hard working middle class
As they followed the road on the way to the future
The present seemed to run away from the past

Like a bowl filled up with too many grapes
The event grew so big, crowd soon spilled over
With each passing year, more people came to celebrate
The field was worn and crushed, it took months to recover

The stadium was getting tired
It always liked when the people came.
But this holiday was rough
It preferred the fans at the football games
The bleachers heard the people talk
Afraid the fireworks might have to move
But the field knew it was over
Cause it heard the fat lady sing the blues

Living life in a perfect location
Small town suburbs, hard working middle class
As they followed the road on the way to the future
The present seemed to run away from the past

These days on the 4th, the field is dark and quiet
Fireworks moved up the road to the mall
But wasn’t the same if there was fried chicken
Smell of hot parking lot didn’t help the flavor at all

Next year he retrieved his good old days at the football field
Neighbors joined, they brought homemade memories
Far off in the distance, the sky was flashing bright
But they all knew the football field was where they should be

© 2024 Matthew Costello