The fireworks bird steals the golden apples
of the sun in the dark, startles them
into a whoosh, a bang, crackle, fizz, swirl,
whistle, flash, burst, sputter, hiss, whizz,
a cornucopia of colours, toffee-apple
sweet, pie and peas hot, bonfire
toffee gooey flicks out molar fillings,
write your name with sparklers night.
The fireworks bird lights its nest
of collected wood and a penny for the stuffed Guy Fawkes to blaze into a grey ash circle morning,
damp earth and empty explosives.
via WordPress for Phone app.