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It's cold, dark, inevitably it rains,
trudge across muddy fields sinking
ankle deep - wet feet.
Then, carnival bright -
jacket spuds, cinder toffee,
all manner of sweets and
cider, mulled wine.
Children run with sparkles on sticks,
drawing designs in the dark.
Find a place, close to
the blaze, keep warm -
cheeks bright with cold, breath
steams, hands hidden in
pockets or gloves.
Watch as the flames consume
the year's past, and the
eponymous scapegoat.
Let it die down, and it is time.
The sky lights up
with artificial stars,
supernovae -
upturned faces bathed in light and rain,
dancing brightness,
ephemeral beauty -
small explosions to the sound of music,
tamed destruction.
Then it ends, magic spent,
and it's off to the pub.

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