Bonfire

Reposted in full from Jaybird at Bird on the Moon:



I have a deep need for a bonfire.


Raging, competing with the stars,
Tickling the moon's belly with flickers
From the dry, dead wood, like so many bones,
Thrown in to be proxies of our own little deaths,
Drinking wine from the bottle, passed hand to hand,
Songs of elegy to the late phantasmagoric summer, so full of
Glitter, fancy pants, and whimsy, gone now...

This little match is honest, and we blow on the fire...

I need to see the embers aglow from
My own misgivings, and be warmed by them,
As they transform amid smoke and sacrifice into
Light, in the friend-huddled midnight, wine spilled
For those gone, tears hissing on the coals, the mysteries
That rustle around us in the leaves and in our weighted thoughts
Are fine to be, to thrive, to follow.

I'll write a letter, and toss it in.

And we'll leave one by one, as windblown ashes, from the fire pit.
We'll smell of smoke, we'll have danced with those plumes,
We'll have made a silent peace, burnt our offerings,
And carry somewhere within a little flame back,
We'll burn, in private ardor, for the sake
Of what we won't tell a soul,
Yet kindle so deeply
Within our own.

C'mon, grab the matches, and let's do this.