LIFE IS HOW YOU
LOOK AT THINGS . . .
It was the morning after the big superstring.
The pyros kicked the debris and declared that there had been
excellent propagation and a low percentage of duds.
Maybe 8 or 9 percent.
After a time three teenagers happened by.
Seeing the unfired crackers, each scooped up a handful, bragging of the mischief,
real or imagined, that could be created with such a stash.
Then came a little boy, tagging along behind his father.
He spied one single firecracker, lying by itself.
Far enough away from the pile of rubble
that his father did not notice him snatch it up and hide it in his pocket.
He gripped it very tightly, to make sure it was really there.
He would cherish it for many years.
A sacred memento of the night he saw the incredible Superstring.
That filled the sky with thunder.
And in the memories of a little boy, lasted forever. . .
Photo's, Art
and Poetry
© 1995, 1996, 1997
Jackie Whedbee
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