It's quieter than usual on this night of memories.
No revelers tramping the streets with wild shouts.
No cries of children scampering in the twilight.
A strangely hushed prelude to the night's fireworks.
We sit under a maroon umbrella, sipping sweet tea,
Ready for the sky to light up around us. In the trees,
The hissing of cicadas fills the air as a flock of starlings
Rises in a wavy silhouette against a blue-grey sky.
Soon the bright plumes of fireworks explode noiselessly
In every corner of the sky. Pinwheels, spirals, wheels of
Fire streak across the horizon, bringing a gift of illumination,
Writing their message of joy and freedom for all to see.
© by Stephen Mendonca.
Used with the author's permission.
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