At a solstice party
we were all asked
if we wanted
to purge ourselves
of last year, manifest
intentions for this year,
or both; invited us
to write these
on slips of paper, fold them,
and cast them into
the fire pit’s flames.

At a solstice party
I thought long and hard
and I wrote something on
a slip of paper, folded it,
thought long and hard after I did;
then I did as I was told
and cast it into the flames.

I will not tell you
which I wrote.
I barely told myself
and I really can’t remember
and it isn’t that important,
at any rate.  

What is important — 
something about such rituals;

something about
erasure and creation
hand in hand
jumping over coals, about
prayers tunneling into smoke
and coming out into clean air.

At a solstice party — 
freezing, burning,
then freezing again;
how we move in the world,
how it moves in us.