Fireworks

       Two chairs facing the fireworks at midnight. A little table with a candle and flowers. The dog we'd thought to comfort but didn't need to, who ignored the booms, but loved the snack tray and the late night hubbub. Folks parked precariously all over the neighborhood, hooting and laughing for their friends. The sky too light for fireworks, too dim for easy navigation. It used to be that ephemeral art like sidewalk chalk, snow sculptures, live music, and fireworks could only exist as memories, but now I can watch the show I just watched online from many angles, reviewed from many perspectives, but I won't, because the show in my memory was more about the love I'm with than the splatters of light over the spruce trees.