Fireworks Suddenly

They come out at night, the flashlight people
combing the tide line, lights swinging wildly
like some Shakespeare clown watch with a bottle.
What do they think to find out in the night
that would not wash up in the glare of day?

Fireworks suddenly burst over the sand
with a bang whoosh snap pop hiss of colors,
burning metallic blossoms in the dark,
leaving a column of smoke, hesitant
then rushing past us like a crowd of ghosts.

A whale, my son turns and says as sudden
as the fireworks. What, I ask? A whale,
that's what might wash up. Let's go down and look.
Blink one flock of lights vanish. Down there some
thing large and dark sings a watery blues.



The flashlight people in Destin, Florida fascinate me. I don't recall them from my trips here as a child, or on the beach in Rehoboth, Delaware.
I wrote the above last night then made this note early this morning, considering the last few things I wrote (this and Bukowski's Blackbird): Imagine that which completes the scene, the mood,the thought. That is the magic. The rest is necessary incidental music and gaffers tape.