A poem about fireworks

I was working on this poem for my OU module but decided not to use it in the end.  It's inspired by a display on Lake Como.

The Trace of Fireworks

The sharp, percussive bark,

then the fading pitter-patter

retorts from the mountainside.

Lights spray the night

in coloured fountains,

shooting through the darkness.

In your worn, lacklustre face

I see the child at her first bonfire;

Shivering with expectation,

jaw hanging, eyes alight.

The flares reveal the path

as I take your hand and lead the way.