Munday on Monday: The days after the Fourth

It’s quieter now — no more sparks that will shower;

The booms and explosions grow fewer each hour

As whiffs of the smoke that envelop the date

Will ever so slowly now fade (if you wait.)

The cardboard and wrappings that once looked so bright

Are garbage come morning — such litter, the sight!

We pick up the fragments of all that was shed;

The dogs poke their noses from under the bed.

A relative calm is what morning is bringing;

As holidays go, this one leaves our ears ringing.

Don Munday

This story was originally published July 5, 2015 at 3:46 PM with the headline "Munday on Monday: The days after the Fourth."