The bombs and their boom have been on, non-stop
Some just a few feet away and many in the far distance 
Providing a canvas of sound without pause
For an explosion of colour, light and sound.
Since about five, as the day took leave

Everyone knows the noise will stop,
No one hurt, one hopes, 
Just the air heavy with noxious fumes 
That everyone takes in; such are the rituals 
Of collective submission and participatory punishment 

I watched with fascination. 
Little children shrinking and clinging as the fireworks began 
Eager parents drawing them out 
To light the fireworks, set off the bombs
Becoming children themselves with much aplomb

The mind traveled to another place
Of unrelenting fireworks and unforgiving bombs
Freedom’s flight and flattened homes 
No play. Everyone, prey
No festival, just funerals
Of flattened children and dashed hope.

Image: “Teardrop on Fire” (CC BY-NC 2.0) by tj.blackwell