CATHERINE WHEEL (Victoria Day)

The sky luminescent pearl, not lacquer,
shifts from blue imbroglio to serene to indigo
hue; rain swirls as wind and cloud breathe great globes
of balloon splattering drops, each visibly bursting as if leaping
from the ground in answer to multiple echoes of countless
splat others at impact.

A thundercloud resplendent as an admiral’s ship
settling into harbour, blows in above us. Lightning
bursts within, impossibly back upon itself illuminating
hidden canyons, mountains of charcoal plumes that suddenly
ignite with giant sparks that leap within, a giant lantern on parade.

Jarret, resplendent, his stance wide, his
weight forward, his green white magenta
water pistol aimed at the skies, aloft against heaven
says, “Pyow, P-yow, P-yow.”

The echo of fireworks drifts to us on the wind.
The night is crackling, popping, echoing with
pings, patters, pongs, POWS and; EXPLOSIONS LOUD
far away.

Cannon, mortar fire, flare, pop caps and tiddly-pangs
we wait, anticipating the stench
of sulphur, cordite, potassium to waft past.

Jarret says, “Fireworks sound like thunder.”
We sprawl at the lintel of Granny’s door,
watch swirls and sheets of rain sweep across the lawn,
our gunpowder safe and dry, stored for another night.
The wind blows backwash of spray upon us.

Jarret and I curl into each other. Lightning arcs
from cloud to cloud. “Listen”, “Quiet”, “Any moment now”
I distract him until suddenly CRACK
unexpected thunder sends him leaping against me.

“Listen to the sky go Pow Pow Pyow,” he whispers
The thunder passes, far off pops and rumbles
I wait for another flash as suddenly

arc flash explodes

thunder clap beside us we JUMP
into each other, Jarret shouting “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy”
raises his pistol, “Shoot Daddy Shoot” he implores

I guide my thumb and forefinger to mimic his salute
“PYOW, PYOW, PYOW,” we bellow into the wind

that echoes, rumbles, in our stomachs. The earth

spins beneath us, an incomprehensible corona.