- Gina Douthwaite
- Last Updated: 04 November 2008
Five Haiku
Tantrums of flame gush
from throats of gunpowder tubes.
Take notice of me!
Bones of bonfire shift.
Startled sparks light up skull-eyed
faces in bushes.
Wisp of grey veil floats,
like some weary Guy Fawkes’ ghost,
out through night’s black walls.
Spent sparklers spear out
in webs of wire weaponry
at anxious ankles.
High over midnight
an insistent arc of stars,
still stage-struck, signs off.