Fireworks carved white scars across black sky, silhouetting bright behind dark battlements. And fireworks behind her eyes. There, look! The girl she loves is back, she’s back! But the fireworks faded as she pushed her way through the smoky crowd and she saw it was not her. Not her. Again.
you should try it
rocket trails weightless in the star-studded sky
flower bursts hang, hang
fall like clothes
softly dropping to a carpeted floor
Shall we have a bonfire, you ask? A bonfire, yes, an excellent fire that burns bones until our very scaffold of humanity cracks and crumbles into the original dust, and the dogs from the forest when all the people have gone will curl upwind from the embers, backs to the glow, one eye on the darkness….
What? Oh yes. Probably a few sparklers and some toffee apples for the youngsters. Roberta’s bringing quiche.
Her memories are gone so on his every visit he makes new ones with her, knowing they will shine before they fade, fireworks through the fog.
It almost seemed that the fireworks over the night-black sea called the lightning. It flashed white and forked and curved and split and hissing hit the sea.
Then, the time for a breath that nobody took, the thunder rolled in across the flattened waves and shook the first, steep-fronted, houses.
The thunder landed on the roof like a rockslide. The now-dead light bulb swung as the flash through the shutters side-shadowed our faces.