Member-only story
Ashes
Rising in bare post-dawn gloom
to light a fire and put the coffee on
I feel the ashes of my ancestors
stirring in unremembered scatterings
around the world.
They lie beneath city foundations
and the roots of mountains
they mix with rain to feed trees
their atoms fly free with countless others
to become clouds and air and stars.
One or two of them live on in me
patiently feeding wood into the stove
inhaling the scent of fresh grounds
and listening to crows shout muffled
questions to one another through deep fog.
I don’t know what they’re saying,
I can’t see anything from here.
The ashes drift in reply: put more coffee on, child
everything you love
and everything you fear
are coming to your door even now.
If you liked this poem, you might like this one too:
