Poets, Poems Everywhere - Independence Day Parade, a Museum, a Convention - 7/2025

Poets Convertible with crew Josephine, Maja with a basket of poems and flags, poet konrad Wilk as the driver, Artur Wilk and Pam Shea ("Betsy Ross") who gave out postcards, former poet laureate Alice Pero and current poet laureate kathleen Travers.

Most of the time I have spent with poetry has been either with a page of paper or the computer screen as I write or edit my own poems and the California Quarterly.  Therefore, it was a great pleasure this July to participate in three fantastic poetry events in person! 

First I walked the route of Sunland-Tujunga's Independence Day parade, giving out 1000 poem postcards and 250 mini-flags (with two helpers) The postcards included two of my own poems, reproduced below and the first stanza of America the Beautiful, which should be American national anthem, but alas, is not... 

THE COLOR GUARD

Above the hills' crooked spine, clouds dissolve

into the azure. Dark red rose lazily unfolds its petals.

My “Mr. Lincoln” blossoms by the birch tree

with the innocence of long-lost, Polish summers.

White bark peaks from beneath green leaves.

White oleander spills over white picket fence.

The sapphire sky shines with the deepest blue of the iris.

Its yellow heart matches sunshine's purest gold,

bouncing off the brilliant sphere of the stamens

in the bridal silk of white matilla poppies.

My garden presents the colors at noon 

dressed in the red, white and blue of the flag.

At night, fireworks tear the indigo fabric

into light ribbons and multicolored sparks.

             

Fireworks scatter into chaos of laughter -

the children's delight - the Fourth of July!

(C) 2025 by Maja Trochimczyk 

This is a new version of a poem that earlier included references to the wonderful piece by Chares Ives, The Fourth of July that contains the best musical image of fireworks in a music history... But almost nobody in America   knows about Charles Ives, so I deleted this reference, alas...

When I gave out the other poem to one lady in the audience, she said she still had it on her fridge from last year, and I was happy to hear that,  but it is time to write a new Independence Day poem... 

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Red is the color of rocks in the Grand Canyon

White are the mountains, shining with snow.

Bue are the waves of Pacific Ocean.

Red, White and Blue - the colors of all

Red is the Earth from which we come

White is the Air that fills our lungs

Blue is the Water inside us, with Stardust

Red, White and Blue - connected in all.

Red is pure love, deep in our hearts

White is the brightness of our clear minds

Blue is serenity of well lived lives.

Red, White and Blue - freedom for all.

(C) 2018 by Maja Trochimczyk

Maja, Alice Pero and Hilda Weiss, 20/7/25

Two weeks later it was time for my poetry feature at Bolton Hall Museum in Tujunga - at Village Poets of Sunland Tujunga. I was co-featured with Hilda Weiss of the Poetry A Video Series and environmental activism, so I selected poems about spiritual reflections rooted in nature... Josephine recorded my 19 min. reading in two parts. I managed to read quite a few poems because I did not spend any time on ubiquitous introductions explaining the poem before it is read. I quite dis lie those, so there...

I started from a challenge to action - a spot of sunlight moving across the hills I see from my window. 

Outside my Window

 

 

A round spot of gold light appears

on the smooth slope of California hills

green in the spring, shadowed by rainclouds.

 

Suddenly, an epiphany of light

blossoms among thickening shadows, 

dusk approaching soon, much too soon.

 

The shining circle stretches into an arrow, 

points west, along the ridge. The arrow of light, 

my arrow, tells me to go, do, act, lead and follow.

Be the light, bring the light. Enlighten.

 

Before I can even reach for pen and paper

to write down this command, this call to action,

it is gone. All is shadow now. Murky darkness.

  

Yet the memory of the cloud epiphany lingers,

etched onto my retina. This spot of light,

this arrow will always be with me—

Each morning, I will turn the circle of contemplation 

into the arrow of action, the dawn star 

into a comet, inexorably reaching its end.

 

Is it not the story of my life?

This spot of light on a mountain meadow

after one winter storm, before another?

 

I catch it, hold it, and keep it safe 

among my treasures. Things not to be 

discarded. Unforgettable thoughts.

 

Another pearl for my precious necklace

woven from brilliant moments— 

jewels of a well-lived life.

(c) 2022 by Maja Trochimczyk, from Bright Skies. Selected Poems.  Reprinted here

https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2022/08/maja-trochimczyks-new-book-bright-skies.html

The next bunch featured poem reproduced here - and poems An Artichoke of a Poem, Mata Boska Zielna, The Infinity Room, Dragon Fruit Awareness... that appeared in Crystal Fire  Poems of Joy and Wisdom and the California Quarterly.  

Oh, the Art of Looking

Look ahead— 

wave and wave and wave

dance in the moonlight

a silver path across the ocean

shimmering horizon

stark intensity

of the Pacific

Look up—

the Milky Way

What do you see?

The spine of the world?

Buttons made of stars?

Indigo cupola with diamonds?

wave after wave after wave

Look inside—

deep into my eyes

electric currents flow

in an arc of brightness

connecting us into One

the Oneness we forgot

Now, we are alive, we are

One—the clear azure

of windswept sky—

the ruby wine

beneath roots

of the earth  

Look around—

wake up and see,

truly see where you are—

enveloped in a blanket

of time, carried

from now to now—

from wave to wave to wave

from Earth into Earth into One

(C) 2022 by Maja Trochimczyk, first published in California Quarterly 44 no. 4 . 

In the second part of the reading, I focused on newer poems from 2024 and those published in the anthology Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom (2022).  "Dragon Fruit Awareness" was already posted here, not long ago, in fact... "Grapes on a Vine" have also been reprinted on my blogs, so I'll not repost it here.  But I found a forgotten poem in my notes, and here it is (from July 2024).

Summer Bee Buzz

The bees buzz in the pin, crepe myrtle tree.

The sound of my childhood. 

I hear that enormous indent tree. I fee

those 21 stings in my head. The taste 

of fragrant amber of buckwheat honey.

My garden is tranquil in the morning before 

my neighbors get up. Only the golden orioles

make ratting noises with their harsh, 

machine-like voices. Maybe they will settle here. 

The intricate, sweet melodies of mockingbirds 

are gone. They moved on after the row of old 

oleanders was cut down. They used to bravely

fight with crows to protect their nests. 

Unfurled white stripes on gray brown tails

Now the orioles shine like pure god 

in sunlight. Such lovely plumage

Such hoarse rattles of their sounds --

                                                               Bizarre...

You cannot have everything.

                                                    You must choose.

The transient body or the timeless soul

Riches of appearance, or the deep truth of the heart. 

"My kingdom is not of this world" 

                                                -- the teacher said. 

         Indeed.

(c) 2024 by Maja T.

The reading ended with "A Declaration" with its refrain, so suitable for this reading - "I am a sovereign citizen of the galaxy"...

Six days later, I was already in Albuquerque, NM, at the convention of the National Federation of State Poetry Societies, where I represented California as the President of its State Poetry Society since 2019. It was the first time attending a meeting with 30 other State Societies' Presidents and I felt it was worth my time. These days, given I'm already past 64 (from the Beatles song), and fast approaching 68, I do what is "worth my time" and ignore things that are not... Seen from the air, the earth was covered with patterns of light and shadow,  as are our lives...

Since it was my first time in Albuquerque, I decided to visit some scenic sites - and my first choice was the Turquoise Museum. I was so impressed that I wrote about turquoise and sent my poem to its Executive Director... I think I'll place it in the California Quqarterly.

Back at the NFSPS Convention, by chance, I participated in a Slam Poetry style Haiku Death Match.  Of 16 Participants, one was crowned the Death Match Champion. Three haiku were read in each round, where two poets were set against each other, replying with a haiku to haiku.  Three-person pane judged the poems and picked the winner who got the best of three. At first, I only had two haiku ready - for I thought it was just a regular reading. But after the rues were announced I scrolled through my gmail messages and found old submissions to our Haiku Study Group Anthologies - and that was enough to find myself in semifinals, defeated by the champion Jerry Hardesty of Alabama. So much fun!  Some of these mini poems appeared in the SCHSG anthologies in 2021, 2022 and 2024. One was just printed in the CQ v. 51 no. 2 (Summer 2025).

First round haiku

Shapeshifting clouds shade

                cement prison housing blocks -

                                              longing for freedom

Roadrunner waits for me, 

                   a limp lizard in its beak -

                                                                                    Carpe Diem

 

 In SCHSG Anthology "The Taste of Sunlight" (2022) 

old linden tree 

             in her empty courtyard -

      the scent of memories 

Second round haiku

           "let me go!"

my kite tugs on its string -

                          we dream of freedom

the flutter of wings

               interrupts my thoughts -

                                       a feather-light heart

Dead Sea Scrolls unfurl

            insights for 3 millennia

                      "you shall... you shall not..."

 In California Quarterly, v. 51, no. 2 (Summer 2025)

Third round haikn

shadow and light - 

               yes and no chase each other 

                                               in circular motion

In San Diego Poetry Annual 2023-24

 

`high school latin class

             Ars longa Vita Brevis -

                             true beauty lingers

In SCHSG Anthology "The Taste of Sunlight" (2022) 

one breath, one bite,

      one thought, one step at a time  -

                                    the measure of life

 

16 contestants and the MC, NFSPS Convention, 26/7/2025

we doze off under

protection of cloud dragon -

or is it a rabbit? 

Photos of nature and clouds by Maja T.

 

Poets in the Parade - Celebrating Independence Day in Sunland-Tujunga

 

I wrote a new poem after I came back home after my favorite July activity — participating in the 87th annual Independence Day Parade, organized by the Rotary in Sunland Tujunga. "Freedom is not free" — we heard at the Holiday concert at the Hollywood Bowl - with a tribute to our armed forces... So I wrote about freedom, why not? After all, here in the U.S. we are free! In 1776, the colonists decided to liberate themselves from the yoke of the Empire, the British power stretching "from sea to shining sea" around the world. And yet, a small group of brave freedom-lovers stood up to oppose the global hegemony of the King. The first act of freedom — rejecting the "divine right" of the monarchy to rule over its subjects.  (My "oath of citizenship" in Canada still stated "I swear allegiance to the Queen and to be a loyal and faithful subject..." — I really prefer to swear allegiance to the flag these days...)

Freedom is not Free

 

Someone works to keep it.

Someone stands guard for the republic.

Semper Fides. Always Faithful.

 

Would I be brave enough

to stand guard with them?

 

Freedom is not free.

 

I work hard to win it for myself.

I strive to not be swayed left or right.

I stand tall with the eyes on the prize ahead.

My steps — on the straight and narrow.

 

Free —

            from vain ambitions, obsessions,         

            sorrows, fears, resentments and regrets.

Free —

             to live well, create, speak up,

care for, share joy, and love.

 

“I am —You are — We are”—this love,

the glue that holds the cosmos together,

in harmony — a forgotten word —

“harmony” — the order of beauty and peace.

 

What is freedom?

            Cosmos, not chaos. Harmony, not discord.

            Gratitude. Divine perfection blooming in all. 

            Red-white-and-blue waving in the breeze.

            Fireworks in July evening sky.

            

 

 

Maja Trochimczyk, © 4 July 2024

Two poets in red-white-and-blue - with Alice Pero, CSPS Monthly contest Chair and the former Poet Laureate of Sunland Tujunga. We are very patriotic and festive, with tri-color umbrellas, flag-themed scarves, and clothes. In addition, I have a Polish wreath of red and white flowers on my hat... the Polish flag is red and white, without the blue... 

Joe DeCenzo, Grand Marshall, with Josefina Gutierrez, Alice Pero and Maja

The Grand Marshall, Joe DeCenzo prepares the flag for  his "cherry picker" - a good choice of vehicle, given the fondness of George Washington for cherries and blooming cherry alleys in Washington, D.C.  According to Joe, "the use of the truck was donated by Roland Gutierrez who was very helpful and generous (the truck is from BK Signs). He was also very diligent in keeping pace with the parade. And he got out of the vehicle to request one of the motorcycle riders go and seek the assistance of police when 200 people spilled out onto the street when Danny Trejo was hit with water balloons."

The presidential couple - George Washington with Martha, that is, Joe DeCenzo, 

the Grand Marshall of the 2024 Parade with Josefina Gutierrez, in well-selected 18th-century costumes — complete with Joe's three-cornered hat, white wig,  and golden buckles 

on the shoes. 

Martin, our driver, with Poet Laureate of the Foothills 2024 - Kathleen Travers 

(and somewhere below, her dog)

George and Martha Washington put their flag with a circle of stars on the cherry-picker truck. Previously Pamela Shea, Poet Laureate in 2017, rode the Parade in a costume as Betsy Ross, the maker of this flag... On the 4th of July we celebrate the birth of the republic.

The presidential couple is ready to roll... among soap bubbles from the truck of State Senator Caroline Menjivar who should win the trophy for "best sport" - since she rode an ice-cream vendor bicycle and gave away free popsicles to children watching the parade. How nice! Not pompous and stuffy but a people's person... 

As I did a couple years in a row, I walked down the parade route and gave out postcards with poems, from Kathleen Travers (I had no copies left, nor a scan to post here), Marlene Hitt and myself. I also gave out postcards of America the Beautiful with text - in two layouts, with one stanza and three... This deeply moving patriotic anthem does not talk about violence and war, as the current US and Polish Anthems do, but, instead, celebrates the beauty of the country, and the blessings of its inhabitants, Native Americans and Pilgrims alike. Maybe human history could have been different, if more nations on earth adopted songs of blessings instead of anthems of war, battle and struggle for their national symbols? Words do bring worlds into being, after all....

These are not bombs

up there in the sky

only fireworks

It's the Fourth of July!

Bursting to celebrate

freedom for all,

sparkling promises

begin to fall

         (c) Marlene Hitt

My  "Independence Day" poem was given out as a postcard previously in two parades already. It is time for a new Independence and freedom poem! I wrote it after the 2024 parade and it is copied above, but it does not have a postcard yet!

Independence Day

Red — are the rocks of the Grand Canyon

White — are the mountains, covered with snow

Blue — are the waves of Pacific Ocean

Red, White and Blue — colors of all.

Red — is the Earth from which we come

White — is the Air that fills our lungs

Blue — is the Water inside us, with Stardust

Red, White and Blue — connected in all.

Red — is pure Love, deep in our hearts

White — is the Brightness of our minds

Blue — is the Peace of well-lived lives

Red, White and Blue — freedom for all.

(C) 2018 by Maja Trochimczyk

Again, I distributed the card with poem from Bright Skies - a version of a poem written for one person (Today ,I'm perfect), now transformed from singular into plural mode — so it is a poem about all of us, about our strengths, our perfection, celebrated together. Today we are  perfect! 

Today – For Us

 

We are a miracle of life.
We do what we want,
we want what we do.

We are perfect!

 

We are a cosmic tree growing 

by the calm lake of light.
Its smooth, opal surface
reflects the sun’s smiling face.
Our roots drink pure nectar.
Our crown sparkles with stars.
Our leaves are green with peace.
Our flowers are gold with joy.
Our fruit is ripe with wisdom.
We are a living miracle.

We are perfect!

 

From noon to midnight.
from midnight to noon,
we love what we do,
we do what we love.
We are — we shine —
we are one with the One.

We are perfect!

                     (c) 2022 by Maja Trochimczyk, from "Bright Skies"

The problem with this poem, converted from a different version, is that every time I read it I want to change it. Therefore here, below the postcard with the text from 2022, is a new version of 2024. Maybe I'll put it on the next postcard, or maybe I'll change it again. The poem does  sound better to me this time, but it also may keep evolving. In this instability, it is also perfect!

The parade sign should say "Independence Day Parade" but the 4th is shorter, apparently. 

Who is not in the parade is on the sidelines watching it. The whole community comes out! 

Greetings from the Grand Marshall, under the Jacaranda blooms.

Joe DeCenzo, who had allowed the poets to use his own convertible for 12 years, and who was active in all the parades I've been in since 2010, was elected the Grand Marshall in 2024. He had the following to say about the Independence Day Parade: 

"Our 4th of July Parade is the single most unifying event of the year here in the foothills.  Regardless of your background or cultural origin, the celebration of our independence 248 years ago gives us cause to wave our arms and raise our voices in cheer.  The ideals set forth in the Declaration are ambitious yet highly attainable as with each generation we move a little closer to honoring those principles.  My deepest appreciation to the Sunland-Tujunga-Shadow Hills Rotary Club for keeping this tradition alive for more than 55 years.  It was positively thrilling for me to serve as the Grand Marshal and to see thousands of our neighbors lining Foothill Blvd. cheering in concert for our hard-won liberties."

 Joe continued: "My beloved Josefina Gutierrez was excited to play dress-up and accompany me as Martha Washington.  July 4th is particularly meaningful for her.  Four years ago she passed the U.S. Citizenship test and took the official oath to become a naturalized citizen of the United States of America." 

 Josefina says, "In Mexico, we have many colorful parades, but this is the best!  Riding in the parade, I see many kinds of faces, people from many countries saluting the flag of our country where we have more freedoms."

A brief video from the Parade, notice that the dirt bikers in the next parade entry had tons of fun!  They amused the audience with their tricks, riding on one wheel, making circles... 

The best biker, though, was State Senator Caroline Menjivar, who rode an ice-cream seller's bike with a big box and gave away popsicles to kids on the roadside. 

State Senator Caroline Menjivar riding a bike with popsicles for kids watching the parade.

The Poets' Convertible with current and former Poets Laureate, Kathleen Travers with 

the umbrella (current), and Alice Pero in the white hat (former).  (Their "Passing of the Laurels" ceremony happened not too long ago). I gave out postcards, so I walked the whole route. Alas, I ran out of them before the end. We have to print more next year.

Alice Pero commented about the poets' presence in the parade: "a wonderful experience seeing the hundreds of shining faces and hearing 'Happy 4th!' reverberating through the air. People seemed honestly awed that poets rode in the parade. Several of my former poetry students spotted me in the car and were surprised and delighted. We were not hit by a single spray of water though I would have appreciated it in the heat."  While there was no water showers onto the convertible, the back of my dress got wet - upon my request, no less. Kids were showering with water other kids. Boy Scouts in the parade had water guns and had a water fight with their friends on the sidewalk. Not solemn and respectful, but still fun!

Maja With her basket, now empty, Roland Gutierrez who donated "cherry-picker" use for Grand Marshall Joe DeCenzo,. Here with Josephine as George and Martha Washington.

After the parade: Kathleen Travers, current Poet Laureate, Joe DeCenzo, josephine, Alice Pero, Maja Trochimczyk

My 2024 costume was a result of last minute decisions — to add one scarf as a ribbon pinned with roses to the bottom of the old navy dress, then to make a bow of the other scarf, and put the Polish red-and-white flower wreath on top of my standard Independence Day white hat with navy and red stars. Without the diagonal sash I sported often in years past, this costume worked! I got many compliments about my attire along the route — "your dress is so beautiful! Can i take a picture?" I felt like a real star of the parade! It helps to work really hard and walk the whole route!

I am so proud to say that I started the tradition of poets in the parade. In 2010 after I was elected Poet Laureate of Sunland Tujunga, I rented a convertible for $130, asked my kids to join me and a friend to become a driver for us in a fancy hat - and there we were, proud parade attendees!  The idea to walk and give out postcards came much later when our group of Village Poets increased in size and there was not enough room in the convertible. 

First Poets' Convertible with Elizabeth Kanski as driver, Anna Harley Trochimczyk and me in the front seat. In 2010 we have not figured out yet that we can sit on top of the car, to be more visible.

Since I ended my term, we used Joe DeCenzo's convertible for the parade care. Even if it is 20 years old, it still looks good covered with flowers, flags, and diverse decor.  When Dorothy Skiles was the poet laureate, she ordered magnets with single words in red and blue, that could be combined on the car to form mini-poems, and these magnets have served us well since then. One year, Joe ordered a banner for Village Poets, another year, he walked in front of the banner with an Irish folk drum. Those where the days... of endless fun.  For my first parade I wrote the following poem, focusing on the amazing composition of Charles Ives, that I think should be played every year at the Hollywood Bowl to celebrate the Independence Day....

The Color Guard

Above the hills' crooked spine, clouds dissolve

into the azure. A red rose lazily unfolds its petals.

Mr. Lincoln blossoms by the birch tree,

glowing with the innocence of lost summers.

White bark hides among green leaves.

pale oleander spills over the picket fence,

shines against the deepest blue of the iris.

Its yellow heart matches sunshine's gold

bouncing off the brilliant sphere of stamens

in the bridal silk of matilla poppies.

My garden presents the colors at noon 

dressed in the red, white and blue of the flag.

                         At night, fireworks tear the indigo fabric

                         into light ribbons and multicolored sparks.

                                          The visual cacophony echoes the loudness
                                          of sound explosions imagined by
   
                                                            that quaint musical genius, Charles Ives.
                                                           The orderly march of brass anthems
             
                                                                               scatters into the chaos of laughter -
                                                                                a child's delight - the Fourth of July.

(C) Maja Trochimczyk, 2011.

My parents in Abu Dhabi, where my father worked for 20 years.

The 4th is not all joy, fireworks and laughter for me. In 2013, my Mom died on the 4th July in the morning, in a Polish hospital after a brief illness and a long ten years of being in poor health - since that horrid bullet in her lung caused an amputation of one-third of it. Two centimeters from the heart, the doctors' said.  My dad faired worse after that fatal April 2000 day, he died in May 2001, having spent most of the year in the hospital, with multiple blood transfusions, dialysis, and surgeries.  When Mom died, I decided to not cancel my participation in the parade, in festive attire - I decided that that was what she would have loved - to see me in the parade. She loved life and sharing joy above all!

John Trumbull's 1819 painting, Declaration of Independence, depicting the five-man drafting committee of the Declaration presenting their work to the Congress. The painting can be found on the back of the U.S. $2 bill. The original hangs in the US Capitol rotunda. It does not represent a real ceremony. From Wikimedia Commons. 

Independence Day is honoring the Declaration of Independence of former British colonies from their colonial masters.  The signatories payed a price with their lives for this act of celebrating freedom.  As my poem above says, "freedom is not free."  Here is a summary of what happened to the 46 signatories of the Declaration of Independence after their rebellious act.

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons in the revolutionary army, another had two sons captured. Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the revolutionary war.

They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. 

       What kind of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners, men of means, well educated. But they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.

        Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

        Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

        Vandals or soldiers or both, looted the properties of Ellery, Clymer, Hall, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.

         At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. The owner quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.

        Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.

        John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished. A few weeks later he died from exhaustion and a broken heart. Norris and Livingston suffered similar fates.

        Such were the stories and sacrifices of the American Revolution. These were not wild eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were soft-spoken men of means and education. They had security, but they valued liberty more. Standing tall, straight, and unwavering, they pledged: ‘For the support of this declaration, with firm reliance on the protection of the divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.’”

                                                                                                                                ~Michael W. Smith

We have not been asked to make such sacrifices yet for the wellbeing of our country, but that time may come and we should be ready. Meanwhile we should walk "the straight and narrow path" of the Oath of Allegiance, celebrate the Independence Day in "red -white-and-blue", volunteer for community organizations, and be good neighbors in our communities. 

Susan Rogers, Josephine, Joe DeCenzo, Barbara Nowicka, and Maja Trochimczyk, 2018.

VILLAGE POETS AT THE PARADE IN THE PAST

Josephine, Joe, Beata Czajkowska, Bory Thach, Ambika Talwar, Elzbieta Czajkowska, Maja, 2022

2022: https://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2022/07/happy-independence-day-2022-village.html

California State Poetry Society poets at the Parade: Maja Trochimczyk (President), Bory Thach (Editor) and Ambika Talwar (Secretary) in 2022.

2019: https://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2019/07/village-poets-and-guests-in.html

2018: http://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2018/07/village-poets-bring-poetry-to.html

2018 (with text and music for America the Beautiful): https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2018/07/independence-or-interdependence.html

Marlene and Joe Hitt as Grand Marshalls, 2017.

Maja and Marlene Hitt, 2018

2017: http://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2017/07/dorothy-skiles-marlene-hitt-saturday-22.html

2017: https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-declaration-of-independence-for.html

2017: http://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2017/06/independence-day-parade-and-july-22.html

Elsa Frausto, Joe DeCenzo, Dorothy Skiles, Marlene Hitt, Maja Trochimczyk, 2015

Joe DeCenzo with second Irish drummer in the parade, 2015

Dorothy Skiles, Maja Trochimczyk, Marlene Hitt, 2013

2013 (with parade photos): http://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2013/08/jessica-wilson-and-jason-brain-co.html

Maja as Poet Laureate in 2011

2011 (with 2010 photos): https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2011/07/joy-in-red-white-and-blue.html

Photo by Susan Rogers, 2011

2011 (Photos): https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2011/07/meditations-on-divine-names.html

The very first Poets Convertible with its passengers - Maja and Ania! July 2010. The same scarf that ornamented my 2024 dress, back then served as a ribbon on my hat and a bowtie for my daughter... In 2011, the bowtie was on my white dress, the hat remained the same. If it continues, that scarf would have to be placed in a museum!