It’s weird how one word,

one object,

one event,

can create so many memories.

A bonfire.

People gather around

and something indescribable happens

some kind of magic.

Stories are told

Relating to your very own life

teaching lessons

and learning from your past.

And somehow,

when the fire burns low,

and the people have dispersed.

The memories are still there

With that everlasting scent.

It’s left on your skin

your hair

and embedded into your clothing

and it’s as if

for some reason,

if you shower

you will be rinsing away those memories

and they will be washed away

But those memories will never fade

They will come back

and be relived

once that last spark

is ignited again.