new year, fire

Let go all the bad, all the strange, all the good.
Plop into the river your can’t and your should.
Whisper your pain, all the grief, through the pine.
Drop into the canyon “what should have been mine.”
Kindle the husks of your dreams.
Let them burn.
Trace in the curl of their smoke
what you yearn to see born in your days.
Breathe it in. Hold the scent.
Rake the ashes.