Anticipation unravels the set mind
creates havoc with intention;
the child’s mind succumbs
to timeslips –
last year’s rockets
and Catherine wheels,
the feel of the tom thumbs and penny farthings
the heat from the fountain
the joy of name-writing sparklers
makes the gap a trap…
mother, father,
I cannot sit still and wait for the sun to set
mother, father,
can the heavens not be a blind
pulled down this evening
so I can swim once again
in the chaos and colour
the noise and smell
the howling, yelling, laughing night
of Guy Fawkes!
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