Ashes, Ashes, After All

I'm made of ashes,

after all. After all.

If my spirit hangs around
after the party, Life,
it will visit creeks
and forests--and bookstores,
if any should remain.

It will spend time, secretly,
with birds and women.
It will listen to old tales
told by foxes and herons,
horses, wildcats, turtles.

Always cold, it will long
for the heat and the light of the fire.

For after all, I am made of ashes.
I am made of ashes after all.

Found Poem: They're All Dead, Ashes

Message on my phone
when I arrived home that
I was late for the grooming
appointment for my animals.
They'll be hard to groom.
They're all dead, ashes.....



found Feb. 27 2013
hans ostrom 2013