From the Sad Spectator

In a distance-dwarfed display,
Fireflies flicker and waterfalls glitter and paint drops splatter,
But something’s the matter.
 
Fireworks from afar,
Become mere pinpricks in the shroud of gloom.
Even the loudest
Barely match popcorn kernels bursting in the next room,
And the chattering, chirping, chatting crickets prevail,
 
Ignorant or ignoring
Of explosions
That’d sear anyone close.
Sulfur-smoke leftovers stifle the nose,
As entrails shriveling, peeling, numb
Drop decoratively
 
For the other spectators, sitting somewhere,
On soft blankets, atop clipped grass,
Exclaiming awe.