(Nonet)
When in the course of human vices
arises need for much more fun;
wizardry of fire and noise
gives birth to aerial
pyroclasmic bursts
erupting art
too soon
gone.
©2007
Author notes
Before anyone says anything, I made up the word pyroclasmic, or at least I have not been able to find it listed anywhere. That covers that.
This is what our summers are like; we own a fireworks productions company, so most of our spring and summer are spent in preparation for the "season" which runs until New Year's Eve, for us. Hope this is acceptable.
A contest entry
- Three Rounds in Three Weeks by CitrineSunrise.
600 points, ended June 30, 2007, 13 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
A critical comment is invited.
Comments
-
If pyroclasmic isn't a word it should be. This poem touches on a subject I have never considered and I thank you for sharing it with all of us. Good luck in this contest. Peace, Liz
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