a bench made of logs,
we sat by the shed.
my tiny hands held the tube
while you routed around for
the bombshells.
"here they are!" you exclaimed.
"can i light one?" i ask.
"no, no, this is big kid stuff,
when you're older-i promise you
we'll light them off together."
i smiled in disappointment as
we both took in the musky smell
of m80s mixed with sweet summer air.