Tonight's Poet Corner: Dust to Dust
Dust to Dust
by Belinda Roddie
My bucket is full of ashes,
white as receding snow,
the hillsides bare and brown
as I trek toward my sarcophagus.
It is ornate, amber-hued, like
the heavy sun against my eyes.
This coffin was meant for me,
not you. And yet, it is your
laughter I deposit here. Your
smile, in crisp, non-human specks.
Your promises as thin as paper.
The lost words burn without heat,
leaving a hole in my pail as large
as the chasm in my chest.
by Belinda Roddie
My bucket is full of ashes,
white as receding snow,
the hillsides bare and brown
as I trek toward my sarcophagus.
It is ornate, amber-hued, like
the heavy sun against my eyes.
This coffin was meant for me,
not you. And yet, it is your
laughter I deposit here. Your
smile, in crisp, non-human specks.
Your promises as thin as paper.
The lost words burn without heat,
leaving a hole in my pail as large
as the chasm in my chest.
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