Fire works
July 29, 1988
After the day's still heat comes black soft night stirring leaves and a sudden breeze running its finger over the damp back of my neck. Their blankets are overlapping, young families lie on hillsides lit by stars. Gentle noises come from sleepy children trying to keep awake, watching their parents lying relaxed and accessible. When the flash, crash, thud, and the comets of fizzling sparklers begin, they are only incidental.