Homegrown New Hampshire hybrids,
They wheel casually into box seats
At the curbstone, enthroning themselves of glistening red
Motorcycles to enjoy the Fourth of July
Fireworks. Her hair is tightly permed
And slightly gray. His beard boasts
He will live free. Both with vigorous
Bites relish their pizza slices,
Uninhibited by diet or fitness prescriptions.
She leans down to flick off
An invisible speck from the chrome pedal,
Admiring her windshield and rearview mirrors.
As magnesium mortars detonate in rainbow
Cascades, two comrade cyclists arrive
And lift off helmets from snow white hair.
From the grass where we sit, a toddler
Runs to hug her cruising grandparents.
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