We, the living knowledge, remember it –
difficult ideas, things of beauty – struggle was
the gift given up voluntarily, like a
candy comforter, where rotten teeth bring pleasure.
We build new campfires with old tales to listen to
and think on the past – it was a pleasure to burn.

Written for dVerse – golden shovel and, once again, utilising Punam’s dVerse prompt, which asked us to use opening lines from books as closing lines to poems. This one is “It was a pleasure to burn,” from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Could this then be considered a golden triangle?