Fourth of July 1996When I was six even the city lights looked like fireworks. Fireworks filled the whole sky and left the scent of dragons. When I was eight my mother showed me that we two, and only we, of all the family, could take our glasses off and have a city full of jewels. I am 47 in two weeks, and tonight I watch the fireworks from Beacon Hill and the man I fell in love with because on our first date he grabbed my hand and skipped down to Pike Place Market is rubbing the back of my neck restlessly wanting to move on. I take my glasses off and show him how I can see jewels that he can't. I watch the fireworks and chant under my breath: "Fire Tree, come to me; I want to be a Fire Tree." Anitra's Writing Page |