The streets were empty on a summer night

I saw the TVs and computers through the windows, screens shining bright

Maybe we’re all like the power lines

Connected to everyone, sometimes on fire

Sometimes down, wreaking havoc, changing our minds

On a dime, the story can become tragic

Those black cords weave through homes, over the sidewalk, between the trees

The power lines bring the world to you and me

But isn’t it interesting that everyone’s lonely

Under a blazing July 4^th sky

I waved at the church parking lot guy

He invited me to pick some vegetables from the garden

The man across the streets’ great-great-grandmother tilled there

Now all in the neighborhood can have a fair share

But everyone was inside

Drawn to the screens, with some reason to hide

I was walking home when the streets went black

Everyone went onto their porch then into that big parking lot

The sky lit up at once – grand fireworks of every color

What had happened I wasn’t sure

But under the lights I could see all my neighbors – hundreds gathered

Loneliness and racism shattered

We all ate vegetables and talked and looked at the sky

The night the power lines died

On the 4^th of July