In the next full moon
Only smoke will tell the stories
of how grey ash wasn’t all
that once breathe in this Hamlet

Only soot will sit both legs on the stone tops
listening to the maimed air leaping at night
whoosh underneath its burns and burnt face
Telling of how it wasn’t always only her here

These too shall pass, but it does not
take a night to bury the Night—
Although the burnt trees will grow again
it won’t be so lucky to touch the same sky again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Matt Howard on Unsplash