I watched a pile of leaves burning and thought about how we all too often set fire to the things we used to love.  I've learned things are only beautiful for a short time and people have a hard time loving someone who wasn't strong enough to hold on, or maybe someone wise enough to know when to let go.  But either way once you fall, a rake is patiently waiting.  I think if you could you'd let me dance with flames too because once I lost the colors that left you speechless you needed a blank canvas for the snow, and I know you've always loved her more.