and the boy drew a line
with his stubby hands,
feeling the roughness
of the pavement.
and it is his stubbornness,
when his name is called,
he doesn't look back
pretending not to hear.
with dirt on his hands
he watches the sparks slither
into smoke through his mouth
to taste something ominously sweet.
24 March 2017
It's something from my childhood. We used to play with watusi, a kind of firework shaped like matchsticks.