Musket fire pops light

into the darkness,

rumbling waves across the night.


Colours stream and blotch

streaked patchworks;

as caliginous smoke entwines



Ashen air seeping through

window panes, past rooms;

under doors and into clothes.


Flooded fox-holes housing

wide eyes. Blinded by the bright spectacle

through the trees.

Numb fingers grip metal sparklers,

twisting; writhing away from the crashes of light

in the air.


Noise subsides;

the show’s over for now,

sighs through frozen breath,

break the silence.


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