Fireworks

Fireworks.The orchestra begins to play.

Your breathe is a sweet nocturne against

My languid skin. I observe curiously

As the poppies awaken upon your cheeks.

Morgenstimmung comes to mind.

Fireworks.The kisses punch my senses

To life. Is this how Chaos felt

When God brought forth the universe

From Her womb? There's a hurricane

A-brewing. I turn from you

Feeling like a sack of popcorn half-popped.

You stare at me half-conscious, still inebriated.

It registers. Not Yet. Not Today. Your gaze

Is gentle.The orchestra winds down. One man

Coaxes hazy, satin notes out of the saxophone.

Fireworks.They are exploding in the distance.

There is silence and solidarity. Your arm is my pillar.

Reviews

[John]

An outdoor scene of relaxed enjoyment which has complex undercurrents that could threaten to destroy the harmony of the setting. Music, a force for unification, is doing its business, but the speaker withdraws from her inebriated companion when his kiss delivers a sucker punch. Recovered, she goes to him again drawn by his half-conscious gentle expression, and the poem ends on a note of unity as she rests her head against his firm body.

Yet, the poem doesn't feel resolved. The fireworks, the half-popped popcorn, the threatening hurricane have the effect of suggesting that disharmony and disunity lie in wait in this relationship, as they do, of course, in all relationships.

Wonderfully subtle work.

[A.A.Romanczuk]

Thank you for the detailed review!

[kmartell]

This poem was stronger as I read it down the page. Very good, it pulled me along, I recalled times, recalled the time I went to the fireworks.

[A.A.Romanczuk]

fireworks, a magical feeling :)