By Toklas
Date: 29 March 2000

Bonfires

I want to ask you a thousand questions
But they fall silent from trembling lips
When was that moment, my asking
cut down like wheat and left
to waste in a dreary field?

Where are the bonfires? The sand,
the music holding me 
Closer in that dance we dreamed.
Where is the wisdom of love--
Inexplicably sheaved in perfumed ashes.