They stretched the huge blanket
Across the freshly cut grass.
All dressed up in her red, white, and blue,
She squeezed in next to her cousin,
Making sure she wouldn’t be left out.

She whipped her head around just in time
To see a burst of light shoot through the sky
Exploding into millions of tiny pieces
That looked like multicolored fireflies.
She squealed with glee
As the sparks slowly died and fell to the ground.

It’s the little things
The sparks that fly in the dark,
The sparkle in her eyes when she smiles,
The tickle on the back of her neck
From her red and white striped shirt.

It’s the gentle squeeze of her cousin’s hand,
The soft touch of the grass under her bare feet,
The way she can feel
The shocking boom in her chest,
It’s always the little things,
That are her favorite things.