That was the anthem he sang.
France then the world he called home.
Bayous and swamps and the people down there -
The Acadians had him now.
He was born on the fourth of July.
The girl who bothered to care,
Who saw a man she'd like to know,
Had to make him see the rocket's red glare.
The flash and the noise,
The lights in the night
Were to him something new and just right.
America
Was not yet his home.
He thought it too soon for just that.
In all the sound and the fury
Of that peaceful night,
Alain came to see
That he was home wherever he went
So long as he could see the fireworks all around him.
This was in response to the prompt "Fourth of July" on Good Reads.
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