prism

from the cold wet

tarmac of the road

shivering in shock

my bike wheels

still turning

I found myself 

suddenly propelled

dizzily through the

smokey headlamps

of the car behind me

and into Friday night

the white beam

of the lamps shattered

into a thousand pieces

painting blues and greens

of children’s glowing wristbands

spiky yellow from sparklers 

and an inferno of red and orange

from the laughing flames

of a bonfire

my knees still shaky

and bruised

I found myself walking 

beside you

in a field of faces

my strong wonderful girl

as if you too

had been painted by the same

shattered light

in the smokey night

I wrapped my arms

around you, holding you close

to remind myself what

living and breathing

felt like 

to feel the cold of the rain

and the warmth of your skin

you looked up at the sky

smiling at songs

and at fireworks

which erupted like laughter

and painted new colours

on your happy face

your cheeks glittering

like diamonds

even though pressed close

I watched you

as if from a distance

unable to make out

your voice in the din

your lips shaping words

that I had forgotten

already the meaning of

too soon the embers

the embers of the bonfire

grew dim

and the last rocket

exploded above us

all light must return to its source

and the colours began

receding and fading

the tarmac

was cold and wet

under my fingertips

as I stared into

the endless white

of the headlamps

my bike wheels 

still turning