Pink Confetti

Her face on the screen,

all flushed and beaming.

The slow-motion burst,

a cloud of pink,

like a wound opened

and then cheered.

I watched it twice.

The green grass catching

each tiny strip.

So perfectly joyful.

So utterly clean.

And I felt it,

that hollow spot,

a small ache,

like a phantom limb,

where something never grew.

Just pink.

And quiet.