A holiday like this should be
Boisterous and full of a melody
Of laughter and love and living sound,
And the sight of the youngest running around.
A barbecue to signal the retreat
Of the season on scurrying feet,
And the coloring leaves
Of the backyard trees.
Endings are just beginnings
But we’re hoping for extra innings
If only I’d money to buy it
I’d want just a little less