Fireworks

Liz Southwood, May 27, 1996

//night time on the 4th

Fireworks


“Crump!” “CRUMP!”
“OOOooooooohh!”
Like expanding universes,
bright fireworks fall.

Children up late
run around the yard
laughing,
calling out
at the brilliant,
sometimes pulsing,
display.

Fireworks,
like raindrops
from a wind-blown tree
fall -
amethyst and silver,
scarlet and gold -
through an obsidian sky.

Down in the valley,
each city’s fireworks glow.
“Çrump!” “Crump!”
“OOOooooooohh!”

A whiff of smoke
invades the
early-summer night air.

Little ones are carried to bed.