Ashes By Dawn

In quintillions of years
What mysteries are human tears.
The fires of a heart
Ashes by dawn.
A body at auction,
Whatever the bids of the bidders,
They cannot stack up high enough for this.
Underneath silk and cotton,
A kiwi with dark eyes and ticklish sides long forgotten.
He goes on eating from paper plates.
He is in new company now.
Not less the soul, nor more—everything is in his place.
The fires of a heart
Ashes by dawn. 

© Colleen Yorke. All rights reserved. 2020.
All names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this blog are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. © All rights reserved.