This was in the days of family,
seven of us making do
on this fourth of July, when
after Mass we invited Father Mulcahy
to our backyard barbecue.
And afterward, at twilight time,
eight of us to the high school
for the extravagant display.
And, when darkness came,
what glowed brightest was
Father’s face as he looked
at our children who oohed
and aahed at the sparkling array
all wide-eyed and open-mouthed
as if they’d never seen it before.
It was that glow,
the one only a mother beams
when her children come to visit
or her grandchild runs up for a hug.
But there it was – on the face of
that kind and gentle priest who
took off his collar and sat on
the tailgate of our old Rambler
watching the fireworks from
the parking lot because
we didn’t have money to go inside.
Focus Unlimited 