fireworks

oh, dear changing season,
you have summoned a slumbering pen to wake
and find her lungs,

with your smeared explosions
of

honey-
fuschia-peach-

and
citrus-scarlet-

hot

 (as liquid crayon
bursting from scraggly brushes)

,with your
hillside all afire
but never burning up

,shouting as to Moses
about Supremacy