The sky never looked more like a broken eggshell.
Lightning cracks and hammers across its surface,
Rain pours, dad laughs, and I shiver, shiver, shiver.
Another crack, closer now, breaks the sky apart.
All I see is unsteady strobelight vision
As we watch a cable snake down a pole.
Dad lets loose a laugh, holds me back as the cable bucks
And hisses out defiant sparks that rain won’t wash away.
It snaps at our feet, vomits putrid light.
Fire babies crawl forward and creep up trees,
Free from mother’s mouth, feeding on the leaves.
Sirens wail through the growls of thunder,
The neighbors holler through torn screen doors,
Red-blue flashing burns broken kaleidoscopes
of color into the backs of my eyes.
Firemen rush forward to sedate the burning backyard.
The cord continues to crackle in the rain,
Before it buzzes tiredly, goes quite still and
quietly dies on the crystallized lawn.
Dad just smiles like a child on the 4th of July.