On the street down the hill, half-hearted fireworks
pop and splutter like distant thunder or a gurgling fridge.
It's the fifth of November, Guy Fawkes night.
I remember huge bonfires, in Launceston in my childhood.
Pop and splutter – like distant thunder or a gurgling fridge –
briefly, then it's all done. Too soon, perhaps, after
the newer habit of Halloween? (Is Bonfire Night dying?)
It's the fifth of November, Guy Fawkes night –
'Remember, remember...' and I do remember
sparklers, Catherine wheels, rockets, penny bungers.
I remember huge bonfires in Launceston in my childhood,
smoke billowing in chill Spring air, our frosty breath,
the neighbourhood dads in charge: all those certainties.
We still have the "chill Spring air" Rosemary, but bonfire night does appear to be on its last legs here. How vividly I remember bonfire night growing up in England! Penny for the guy and all that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for another lovely poem :)
Lovely poem. Lovely memories
ReplyDeleteI like this. Always nice to reflect on those childhood memories...when certain things happened with 'certainty' every year!
ReplyDelete"half-hearted fireworks
ReplyDeletepop and splutter like distant thunder or a gurgling fridge."
Were they truly bigger once or seem so to a child? Maybe a little of both? Or maybe like our dreams after the USA election, the magic has died.
Where I now live, Spring gets quite hot. The fireworks are definitely half-hearted and brief, and bonfires don't happen at all. It's fire danger season already, so these activities would be illegal without permission – and permission is unlikely.
DeleteOh I love the sound of that. What great memories. There have not been nearly enough bonfires in my life. I must remedy that.
ReplyDeletethere's note of sadness for a tradition dying out...
ReplyDeleteAh, the good ol' days.
ReplyDeleteIt was so interesting to visit those nights through this poem of yours
ReplyDelete'half-hearted fireworks pop and splutter like distant thunder or a gurgling fridge.' Sigh.. such deep and unspoken emotions lie hidden in your verse ❤️
ReplyDeleteI too remember November 5th from many years back where one's local street had a bonfire in the cool English autumn with each family with their own box of fireworks sharing the fun with bottle to place the rockets in.
ReplyDeleteLovely words that brought back memories for me too. Dad in charge of the fireworks, mum in charge of the homemade feast, always toffee, parkin and also taties baked in the bonfire.
ReplyDeleteI do think Halloween has come to the fore and bonfire night is fast becoming a damp squib. Sad that.
Kind regards
Anna :o]
I've never seen those fires, but from Childhood I do remember Easter and last of April fire...
ReplyDeleteNo, you wouldn't. It's an English tradition, carried on in the 'colonies' too.
DeletePop and splutter – like distant thunder or a gurgling fridge – perfect description!
ReplyDeleteremarkable reminiscence captured in your words - before the organised events when rockets fell to earth and "the neighbourhood dads in charge: all those certainties." Lovely!
ReplyDeleteAh the magic - i used to love the smell of sparklers - did you grow up in Launceston Uk or Tasmania? - that makes us both South west women :-)
ReplyDeleteTasmania – which is south-eastern Australia, while Launceston is north-eastern Tasmania. So sorry, not quite a match, but close. :)
DeleteSparklers, as a child I would write my name in lights to see it sparkle in the night.
DeleteChildhood a wonderfu time, we could be frightened by the fire works, and yet we knew we were safe, unlike today....there is no assurance of safety... it is a scary time.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful, wonderful poem! So eloquent, subtle, and beautiful... so much memory!
ReplyDeleteExcellent use of the form...
ReplyDeleteZQ
One can never forget the best of times in childhood memories!
ReplyDeleteHank
The thunder and gurgling fridge thrown together gave me a giggle. Thanks for sharing your nostalgia
ReplyDeleteMuch love...
I can't help but hear Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof," crying out, "Tradition! Tradition!"
ReplyDeleteOur childhood memories are forever printed within. Let us hold them forever dear...bkm
ReplyDeletei do heard of Guy Fawkes night, but it is not a tradition over here, though we were once a colony. We have our Hungry Ghost festival over here though, where we burn paper offerings (no fireworks though). it's sad to see some traditions slowly dying off...
ReplyDeleteinteresting form, btw, not that easy to write, i think. :)