Here, around the fierce bonfire, I've gathered all of my selves,
From earliest memory to now,
Sitting cross legged, and staring at the flames.
All my forgotten selves, lined up,
From smallest, over there,
In stops and starts through the years.
Flannel dress and red tights.
Polka dot dress and matching bow.
Pigtails and uniform.
Cardigan and jeans.
Shoulder length hair and fringe, school coat.
Short hair, black blazer.
Orange sweatshirt.
Ra-ra dress.
Bad perm and nursing blouse.
Smart suit. Silk scarf.
Polo shirt and chinos.
Evening dress.
Worn old shirt, soft and faded.
Pyjamas and socks, a blanket.
All staring into the flames.
Black night all around,
Only the flames crackling.
An alarm sounds, calling me.
I have to go. But…
I can't leave all my selves here in this dark clearing,
Staring at the flames without me.
From nowhere, clouds of wing-beats surround me,
Invisible, beating fast,
Too many to count,
Too many to countenance,
And bear me and my selves up,
And gather us,
And propel us forward,
Into the day.
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