Bonfire, Thanksgiving Night

My life at times
has been torrid enough
to force me to step back
beyond the light and heat it throws
and watch it burn,
sparks rising from it
like reverse confetti.

I gamble with myself:
how high
will the last one fly
before it blinks out?

More often than not
I lose these wagers.

When I do win,
I throw more fuel on the fire
while saying,
“Double or nothing.
Let’s go for it.”

It’s been a long run
of incredible fires,
empty pockets,
and talking to myself.

Well, I will build a bonfire tonight,
on this Thanksgiving night.
I’m going to build it solid
with hard woods that won’t blaze up
and disappear with the kindling.
When I light it, I won’t back away
but will let it scorch me
as I stare into the yellow-white
under the embers.
I will not look up to see
what is vanishing
above me into the overcast night sky.