41 A Quiet Fourth Homesick, building a fly rod on the patio All the fresh sunny breezy morning; a calm blue Sky and green leaves close me in. Low tide’s at two, And I’ll run then. — The dusty parade and rodeo Took place in town, all right, forty-five years ago, A thousand miles away; fireworks afterwards, too, And then the ride home on the dirt road, winding through The cool fields in darkness, hearing the water flow Over the weirs; and then our dogs, at the driveway turn. — And winter’s the time for Hendry’s Beach; therefore I’ll write This one, to do for my few summer runs down here: Beach flat, trampled, sea flat, slack and warm and clear; People little black figures against the big silver light; Close up, it’s beer can, frisbee, radio, sunburn. — July 4, 1978 83