5 Lines – Fireworks
Image: provided by Patricia’s Place
Jack walked the streets at three
until a resounding boom of wheels in ruts
would send him marching ramrod home,
on fireworks night he would take cover
waiting for the shells to rain down.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Note: I observed “Jack” many times but never got to know him, in one week he never got to the shops because the trucks would sound explosive when they hit a rut or drain cover and he would stop, stand to attention, wheel about, and march home again. Shell shock/PTSD had wrecked him.
via Daily Prompt: Sparkle
Lots of things sparkle. What we call sparklers, or really low grade welding sticks that light up with a match and sparkle in the dark. I really miss what we used to call fire works night (November 5) or Guy Fawkes Night (Gun powder, treason and plot), I really miss fireworks night, all those smells and colours and sounds, we’ve become a true nanny state in banning them. We forget there’s a risk even in getting out of bed in the morning – perhaps they’ll ban getting up every morning 🙂
Flowers also sparkle, like a living impressionist, even expressionist, painting.
Taken near Nungarin at Talgomine reserve at the height of wildflower season, the photo doesn’t quite capture the sparkle, but I can assure you they do. A bit like us really, what you see on the outside sometimes belies what’s on the inside, we all sparkle, but you have to get to know in order to really know. Knowing is seeing.