1920s archival back & white photograph of a Gypsy/Traveler’s caravan ablazed — Traditional funeral ceremony.
Archival photograph public domain

Burn it
You can burn it all
The books
The quilts
The poetry
The dried paint on the boards
The pictures in their frames

When I die
Burn it all
You can burn it all
Like the gypsies did
A caravan on fire
Diaries ablaze
No secrets revealed
No shame relived
No memories to smile to
A life forgotten

A presence
On this lushious land
At this time in Time
A body to burn
Used up to the core
Tired to the bones
A skin like rag
And hair so thin
Eyes sunked in
Burn it all you can burn it all

The dresses that twirled with me
To the music you made
The sweat on my cheeks
The feverish joy
And freedom spared
Burn it
You can
Burn it all

My lips wrinkled
My earings
The bangles that once adorned
My youthful wrists
The rings on my fingers
from lovers who once dreamed
That I would be theirs
To keep

Burn it
You can burn it all
The sorrow and the pain
The lessons unlearned
And advices ignored
The blame
The shame
The pity of it all

The bird in the nest
That came last spring
The mouse in the wall
That stayed up late
They too will dance in the flames
Whistling the glory of my days

In the distance
Through the wind of May
A rowr through the crackling
From the forest trees
Singing all my praise

And I say to you
Standing on the rim
Watching through your tears
And your smile of gold
My heart will have stopped
So burn it
You can burn it all

Stop. Look & Listen. That’s Life happening. Sometimes en Français et parfois in English. www.ajvallee.ca