There’s a lamplit parade down by the harbor,
Victorian women and children all dressed in white
circle the lake carrying Chinese paper lanterns lit with candles,
the trail snakes on for miles. What are they celebrating?
A Mayday parade? Suffragettes? A ghost army on the move?
From the wrought iron balcony two men look on,
they flex their biceps with their sleeves rolled up,
as if the muggy evening were asking for trouble.
2/14/24 Molly Fisk PaD
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