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Posts Tagged ‘fireworks’


 
 
We sat in the grass
on my grandparents’ lawn
and watched fireworks
above the lagoon,
and as the sky glittered
gold and red and silver
and the humid air boomed
with the rapture of celebration,
my family a chorus of awe.
And the fireflies put on a show
of their own, and no one I loved
had died. How magic it all was.
Oh, how we ooohed, we ahhhed.

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In the middle of the city
surrounded by sirens
my daughter and I stand in the dark
on the balcony
of my parents’ small apartment
and watch dozens of tiny fireworks on the horizon
and I am once again a girl of ten
and we are out on the boat
on Pewaukee Lake
and my mother teaches me
to say ooooooh as the firework colors
drizzle down in the sky,
then to clap and say ahhhhh for the next firework
right above us, sparkling as if we’re inside it.
Tonight my daughter and I oooh and ahh,
though the beauty is far away.
Sometimes it’s like that—
it feels as if beauty is a distant thing.
Perhaps even more important, then,
to celebrate it. To let the self
notice how dark it is,
to appreciate the dark,
to appreciate even in the distance a spark.

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