the feeling after fireworks

Subtle.

Painfully shy,

sometimes.

Just as quiet as my grip

on their attention,

which fades like a 

firework, fizzling

out,

at the end of the night.

A trickle of light,

a few pops,

and then I'm 

spent.

My grasp on you is like the crowd's deep sigh

when the show is over--as they know

they need to pack up their picnic baskets

and blankets,

roll their strollers, gather their children,

their tupper ware,

and say goodbye to family friends

as the july sky melts to black.

I'm that feeling in their guts--

that initial

"Oh wow, 364 days until I will see that again,

what a shame that it's over."

I'm a quick sadness, then they forget,

as July becomes August.