Jackson Thea

As the music plays

I watch the lights

Not the dazzling ones

Not the fizzles and swoops

Not the smileys and shapes

Not the reds, greens, blues, or purples

But everything else

I watch the white

The shy flicker that jumps off the boat

That tiny spark into speck that soars

Then disappears

Still watching even

When there is no speck

And I follow it into the bang

I feel the chilling air

The wind blowing off the waves

Lapping from the mountain lake

The wool blanket scratches

And engulfs me,

My toes make a cave in the sand

That warms my feet

I watch the reflections

As they churn and bubble and ripple

There are the reds, greens, blues and purples

But they aren’t quite that

They are altered by the water.

Darker. Ghostly. Quickly shimmering,

They fade

I hear the yells

That echo along the sand

The whoops, shouts and yelps

And nearer, the cooing oohs and ahhs

From my huddled up friends

Until the finale starts,

And the explosions climax

And everything else stops

But then the fun is over