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Bonfire Night
Sparks of red and white,
light up the ink smoke night.
Puffballs of glitter, spray and dance
under awefilled stares of damp November.
Picks of silver spatter and hiss.
Wheels of fire spiral,
in garish glare and glow.
Fountains flow,
and yellow sparks float and fly.
Green pats spit spat.
Trails from distant fields,
lead to amazed gazes and gasps.
White-hot iron filings whistle and rasp in helical waltzes,
and smells of charcoal,
meat, rotate and roll
towards cold nostrils,
and cold wet feet.
A paper poppy shivers under the thundrous blam
of a giant shell of joy.
A shock too loud for one small boy.
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