It was a cloud complete with thunder and lightning.
A mass of smoke with sparks flying in every direction.
A soft popping noise was edging closer
to my already burnt fingertips.

It all leads back to what I hold in my right hand.
As I spin around on my best friend’s driveway
the light encircles me.
Blocking out everything else except that very moment.
I feel the cold cement on my bare feet.
The night is pitch black.

My friend leans over her porch railing and snaps pictures sporadically
trying to capture what we worked so hard to earn.
Out of an entire box of sparklers
this was the only one that had survived.

My thumb had gone raw from rubbing against the lighter.
The shy flame igniting each only for a second
before fizzling out into oblivion.
Leaving only a thin, quivering line of white
and the smell of smoke
as an apology.