What are they waiting for – these objects? Where is everyone? Did they just leave or not yet arrive? Or is this place just a figment of my imagination? Perhaps it all will be gone the moment I turn my back.
When I was a child fireworks frightened me. I found it scary with its wild power that could get out of hand any minute. Instead I would tour the neighborhood next morning and collect what was left – feeling safe
with it now and imagining what it had looked liked the night before. Being grown I am now more fascinated with how beauty is fleeting but leaves something at least as interesting as the obvious, short lived splendor of the night before.