Saturday, April 2, 2011

Ash and Bone

Your deeds swim in my head
So much so the taste lingers
In my mouth

I close my eyes and see
the sight, the horror
I smell the brisk fire
And inhale the dried sand

And,
And,
And,
I wonder how much of me
is truly left.

1 comment:

  1. When bones turn to ash
    And deeds feel too heavy
    And eyes that were closed
    open
    And smells inhaled leave memories stained
    I wonder... I wonder...
    how any one could know how much is left of me?~CP

    I love the poem you have written on this blog and it inspired the one I just wrote. Thank you for the inspiration your words are beautiful.

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