memories into ash

it's the first fire

of fall.

i throw the wood into

the pit

and light

a match.

the flames rise high

above

the fence.

i move the chair closer

as it dies

down

and rub my hands together

against the heat.

i stare

into fire, listen to the crackle

of what's

burning.

memories into ash.

at times it's so easy

to start over

again.