© 2018 Jo Page

  • Facebook Social Icon

Saratoga: Fourth of July

July 4, 2015

To the man carrying the newborn in two hands, like an offering,

To the ten-year-old busker with skinny legs and too-big guitar,

To the gay couple at the hot sauce store gauging the heat index,

Happy Fourth!

To the man in black loafers, no socks and gold chain,

To the slim-faced girl in her spotless smock at the cheese shop,

To the panting pug on his leash and his obedient follower,

Happy Fourth!

To the iced-coffee-carrying ingénue in fishnets and shorts,

To the pierced pedant in black with his dog-earred Ulysses (why today?),

To the seller of gelato belting out Verdi and scooping stracciatella,

Happy Fourth!

To the little girl who cries as her pink balloon floats skyward and away,

And to the little boy who says, “Hey, Dad, look!” and “Hey, Dad, look!”

To the moon-faced toddler in her stroller, beaming and effulgent,

Happy Fourth!

To the carousel horses on their appointed rounds,

To the waterspout fountain gods, Spit and Spat,

To the antique cars, buffed and shiny, lining the park,

Happy Fourth!

Before the rain comes, which it will,

Before the sun sets, which it will,

Before the last shop closes and the lights go out,

Happy Fourth,

Tarry on,

Happy Fourth.

Please reload


October 31, 2019

September 30, 2019

September 23, 2019

September 4, 2019

Please reload


I'm a writer, yoga teacher, Lutheran pastor, and music nerd living in New York. I find a feast in daily living - most days, anyway - and write about it here. 

Finalist for the 2017 Chautauqua Prize!
The frank and funny story of a church-geek girl who spent twenty years in the ecclesiastical trenches as a Lutheran pastor, preaching weekly words of hope she wasn’t sure she even believed.