My mother wants a picture

of the fireworks behind me

since

she didn’t know if she’d ever get to see them again

she thought she’d only hear them

and the synchronized screaming

 

if fireworks were a joy to hear

those four years

would’ve been

marvelous

 

the last time she heard fireworks it was

       one of the ones that take property of a big circle

       one of the ones made up of gravel and shrapnel

       one of the ones she only heard

she was walking to buy bread for that one

 

and now we’re sitting on a lawn

watching the fireworks

and she’s listing how each different one sounds like

artillery shells

 

wishing for

fireworks with the sound off

so we could see it

       and not have to hear it