Fireworks by the Sea


And no one spoke a word 

Watching the flaming spectacle

Hearing the cacophonous insult to music

Observing its discordant choreography

Away from the madding crowds


Across the water

Perched on the edge, an enclave

Choir of small talk harmony

Jaded by life's perennial display

Faded, worn by its truths

Fragile, as if ill at ease might snap our souls.


The tenuous host, ambiguous partner

The men not dancing, women lost to beats

The grieving husband celebrating life

Content to hush, fall quietly to silence

With the dying of the light

As the ripe moon rose 

orange from the sea

 © Philip Knight 2018