On the fourth of July
in 2007
I wore my favorite-pink-dress
and went to my sister's house.
I cuddled my sister's endearing dog,
Higgins,
and picked him up
even though he was a little
too big to be held.
He got my dress dirty
but the stains have always washed out
of my favorite-pink-dress
ever since I got it in 2005.
We went on the roof (sans Higgins)
and watched fireworks from "A" mountain,
turned 90 degrees,
watched fireworks from a baseball field,
turned 90 degrees,
and watched another fireworks show
from a place I don't know.
Now it's 25 months later.
I am 25 and
my sister hasn't lived in the desert
for awhile now.
Higgins has gone to
the other side of the rainbow bridge.
And I still wear my favorite-pink-dress,
which I washed at the laundromat today
and it has no stains.
Today I drove home from a friend's house
and saw fireworks off in the distance.
I don't know
where they were from.
Turns out when you live somewhere so flat,
it's not hard to see
other people's fireworks.
I came home to
a different dog,
Beauregard Arthur Higgins,
who also gets my clothes dirty.