I sit on broken ground
as the flames lick the pallets
before me
all around is the sound
of a beautiful woman singing
words from an age long forgotten
aimless children encase the fire
in a possessive ring
the shore crackles with ice chunks
tall trees laugh at the naive memories
of immortality
somewhere
someone dances with a lover
finds direction in life
searches for reality
as I pour a strong glass of gin and tonic
and feel the fire.

© Crystal S. McDonald.