on fire

i love a good bon-fire
on a crisp autumn evening, waking
up with the scent of woodsmoke
in my hair. so satisfy-ing to
burn things that you need
to let go of, their absence
a healing balm, creating warmth,
leaving a glow where your
problem used to be.
we lived in santa fe, sparkling
city of diamonds viewed from
above as you crest that final
hill. ev'ry fall they burn an
effigy of old man gloom, zozobra,