Fireworks and The Archeologist

Two poems posted today, both written several weeks ago and polished slightly since then. The first received its inspiration from hearing fireworks, but not seeing them out the window, while the second I wrote, wanting to write something for the passing of my grandmother, over a week ago. The images come from a trip I took with her some years ago. Well, here they are:

Fireworks
She looks out the window,
and my eyes follow, out into the night,
where lamplights reveal emptiness.
And then I hear the drumming sound
of victory overtaking itself.
The gunshots in the dark, upwards.
This is what calls her attention.

There are no bursting colors
or sounds of bombs dropping,
only the black sky against the rumble
that she calls fireworks.
It is like the marching band,
pounding their red hearts
and beating their chests.

It is a never-ending symphony of clocks,
the crashing of chairs and tables,
doors closing against me.
All this happens out of view.
I forget to listen and the moment disappears.
The triumphal noise has ended long ago.
The lonely silence returns.

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The Archeologist
O remember that my life is wind – Job 2:7

I remember Stonehenge: the rocks piled together,
and the dawn casting shadows like a river of darkness.

My grandmother stopped on the outside of the circle
perhaps imagining herself with a brush,
uncovering history with a gentle touch,

or seeing as the ancients the passing of days,
a cold solstice foretelling the long nights.

And I remember the ruins in Scotland
a village once covered when wind pushed the sand.

Then it lay below us, she and I, walking through time,
entering in homes that once sheltered families
a child and his grandmother, talking around the fire,

or a young mother and father around the dinner table,
in a timeless scene with one son and three daughters.

I wish I could reveal more than the garden remains
of an old island home, lost in this tumultuous aging sea.

But this is how I discover: exploring memories,
searching for the twinkle in my grandmother’s eyes.