How bright the bonfires of my childhood days
As summer drifted deeply into fall!
The chill, the burning leaves, the fragrant haze
Made this the most enchanting time of all.
We dipped dry sticks into the hungry fire
And leaped, and split the quiet with our screams.
Small, earth-kissed gypsies in ragshag attire,
We were knee-deep in life and leaves and
Dreams.
Leaf flame-wind tousled gypsies-flimy skies-
I view this scene as one who stands apart.
A drift of pungent smoke still smarts my eyes-
(Or can a childhood memory twist the heart?)
The leaves, the scarlet flame, the haze-soft sun,
And youth’s bright, blowing dreams all blur, as
One.
