Tonight,
    fireworks will paint the sky—
        reds bleeding into blues,
       sparkle fading into smoke,
            each pop and crackle
like punctuation marks on summer.

But me?

I’m here chasing your shadow
    through each burst,
    each smoky afterimage
    holding your laugh,
            your smile,

    that soft sideways glance.

I’ll stand under
     the same wide-open sky,
     hearing your voice
     in the sizzle and sigh—

     red, white, and always you.