notes: this is a poem I wrote shortly after my papa passed in 2014. I associate the 4th with happy childhood memories watching fireworks from his backyard, eating barbecue, and picking peas in his garden with my little pink bucket. when I think of freedom, I think about the innocence of childhood, and nothing encapsulates that more than my memories of the 4th at my Papa’s.

it’s a beautiful poem. I used to go to this yearly party w/ some of my moms friends when I was little, and this kinda reminds me of it