dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: cookout

When fireflies waved
The runway clear
For high explosions
I drew my name
In the dark, each letter
Sparkling, popping near
My fingers.
 
I sat in the cool grass
Watching confetti lightning
With no thoughts of fighting
The tiny artists
Of their own fiery design-
Chigger bites tattooed
The bursting lights
In bright red bites
For my legs to remember.

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