a year, oh, what a year.
discovery unforeseen.
situations unprepared for.
shocks uncalled for.
details i don't want to speak of. not anymore.
too many there are.
i didn't know what i wanted to do this year.
i only know i wanted to see the year quietly pass.
and i know i wanted to see them.
~the flares~
no seat? wait, there's one.
wet seats from the earlier rain? no problem.
plastic bags from the supermarket where we'd gotten drinks onto the chairs.
problem solved.
 |
| the camera, it was the camera! |
and there they were, silently, magically, one after another,
starting from the east. a blast, a flare, a blast, a flare.
fourteen there were. i counted.
rising above into the darkness of night.
quietly they drift... from starboard to bow, their orange flares illuminating like precious jewels in the night sky.
as if bidding one a fond farewell and a silent hi and hello into the other...