the morning

the morning

            washed the night into day,

with rain and thunder.

gray mist over the lake,

water mixed with the ashes

from the last night’s bonfire,

where we burned our memories,

ritually,

over the grave of our feelings.

we avoided to talk about them,

instead,

we shared fictional stories,

as people always do,

at night,

by the fire

c: Nina K Orlovskaya@6/7/2012