Picnic Day
So you would like to live
in this quaint little village of Davis?
We would love to have you here
and promise you many great things.
Once a year you will have a picnic and parade -
and what a parade!
Bands and floats
and bicycles galore.
Antique tractors
with creaking iron tracks.
Cheerleaders and clowns
on tall one- wheel bicycles.
Balloons everywhere,
cotton candy and loud horns.
But to old-timers, like me,
the real parade is the 75,000
watching the parade.
They sit, move and stand three deep for blocks,
waiting for hours
as the marching bands play someplace close.
Many move up and down the street
as if they too are on parade.
And they are a most diverse audience.
Equally varied are the dogs
brought to enjoy the outing.
There is not a size, color or breed of dog
that is not represented.
And figure it out,
if there are 75,000 people,
close to half will be male.
And half of those will have on
a tee shirt
with a message.
The parade- watchers become signboards
for a national sampling
of sports teams, politics and beers.
Named beers suggest a possible sampling a day
without repeat for eternity.
The recent election is advertised
without any shirt favoring a loser.
And when the street parade arrives,
a cacophony suggests that really
the parade participants pass to view the crowd.
The viewers are why I go to the parade
and go so early.
Once a year I get to see what is cool
in this quaint village.
All this and a picnic, too.