There were fireworks
On the last night of summer.

My family all went outside
And stood on the sidewalk
And watched the sky.
Bursts of color
Green
Blue, pink
Gold
Shimmering down
Through the darkness above the church parking lot.

We do this every year.
On Labor Day,
Someone sets off fireworks
And we stand outside our house
With them reflected in our eyes.
People drive by on the busy street,
Sometimes getting out and standing in the parking lot of the church across the street,
But we just stand there and watch the sky.
And I feel whole and inspired
And maybe even
Happy.

There were fireworks
In my soul
Once.
What happened to them?

I feel such apathy.
I can't create.
I'm missing that night in summer
Where I leaned against my mom
And didn't feel like my world was crashing down.

With all the bad things going on in the world,
It's hard to hear the bangs
And imagine fireworks rather than gunshots or crumbling buildings.
It's hard to fill my soul
The way I could when I was a child.

There are fireworks
Somewhere in the world
Right now, maybe.
Someone is celebrating.
Someone is watching
Green
Blue, pink
Gold.

Someone else might be wondering
How to bring the fireworks
Back into their life.