Refiner's Fire

At this tail end of the year
there is debris to shed.
Like the evening's dying embers,
time falls silently, 
flaking into the grate
cradling the year's final hours.

Moments of reverie
open into quiet letting go 
of undone, unfinished,
un-embraced tasks,
letters not written,
friends not seen.

Transfiguring flames 
lick round regrets,
refining their contours
until nothing remains
save the empty place,
for the New Year's fire. 

©Janet Henderson 31st December 2017