Summers ago,
On a dark July night
The expansive field was lit by the soft glow of explosions
In the night sky.
One boy whom decided he didn’t see enough of the glow,
Ran out far away into the field,
But he didn’t see
The misfired shot into the blazing grass far away
When he realized a whistling winding whirling missile was before him,
It was too late.
In that millisecond that felt like hours, colors, sparkles, and ashes
Were all around
And when it ended
All he wanted
Was to see it again.