I wanted to be held and loved,

nourished by my spiritual mother,

but when I opened up my little arms

to receiving her promised carings,

she handed me a spinning firecracker

shooting out blistering sparks

and lightning spikes,

and with mamma's irritation said

Now many flash wounds later

I have come to love what I call

my Fourth-of-July Woman.

It took a long while

but I found I really like her

Holiday fire.

We have a third-degree-burn relationship

but I'll tell you this:

She never leaves me cold

like mamma did.