This poem appeared in the now-defunct Every Day Poets, December 13, 2012.

james_abbot_mcneill_whistler_012
This one can’t live with the memories,
night in Paris, day in Rio, Christmas in Saint-Tropez.

His hand lovingly caresses
metal, fingers the trigger.
He thinks of the coming
silence.

Clasp releases,
something snaps,
a million sparks,
or are they stars?

© Timothy Dailey-Valdés, 2012-2016
Image: James Abbott McNeill Whistler, Night in Black and Gold, The falling Rocket, 1874