Soon, I must head out
to rake and gather
all that I've done
and failed to do
together;
and, without separating
one from the other,
to set fire to the bunch—
hear the words pop,
watch the deeds crackle.
For only then can I resume
my odd processes
of writing notes to myself
and making friends
idle promises
in the purified, ashen, desolate space
which another December's
conflagration opens up.
