Bonfire from Garden Dreams by Aaron Marcus

One summer, when the children were still small,
We built a bonfire from brush around the cabin
Pulling and piling dead branches high and higher,
Gathering long sticks, marshmallows and lawn chairs

Then lit dry tinder and watched, horrified as fire
leapt and roared, echoing off the woods.
This was no tame cooking fire for s’mores
No cozy blaze for ghost stories or songs

We stood in small groups in the flickering heat
Trying to act like we were having a good time,
But really, we were ready to put out sparks
Or run for the cool and sheltering pond

Later, after the young ones slept
The flames sank down to a sullen glow.
The parents stayed up all night to make sure
New fire wouldn’t rise from hot ash

Every day when I wake to hear
The roaring flames of the morning news,
I recognize that feeling of tense waiting
Keeping watch
Ready to beat at the flames,
Or run.

• New England
• Traditional English folk
• World
• contra dance
• poetry and music
• scandinavian folk
• Vermont