Ashfall in the City
A Poem
Published in
Nov 1, 2020
The thunder cracks and mothers weep
And crimson rivers paint the tar
We eat ourselves while grey heads reap
In marble towers from afar
When we were young, we laid in grass
My finger tracing distant light
The world on pause as evenings pass
Our lives untouched by fear and spite
The warmth of summer left my face
In concrete tunnels filled with soot
Six pounds of ash packed in a vase
Makes all our best intentions moot
