The Fireworks at Nine

by Gianna Bompartito
(Staten Island, New York, United States)

I hear something,
Something pop,
Something fizzle.
Whats that?

It's a bomb!!
Ohh no, wait.
It's a firework!

I hear them crackle every summer since they are near by
I live right by the beach you see,
I see nothing more, nothing less.
I see them always promptly at 9,
I see them burst in the dark bold sky.

I've heard them since I was little.
I've thought they were bombs.
I've heard them spark,
And snap,
And sometimes sizzle.
They also sometimes hiss,
Roar, and sometimes whoosh!

I run!!
I run!!
I run out the door!
I run to the boardwalk,
To see,
To see
To see the colors of the rainbow!

They're...
Red, Blue,
And Pink too!
Orange and green,
Yellow, and sometimes bold purple too!

When it's over,
The excitement stops.
The sky turns dark,
And we leave the park.

They are not gone for long.
The summer has just begun.
We will see them again when we hear them pop,
Pop,
Pop!!!!