Cinders and Embers

ICR — April 24, 2021

We let the smoke lead
with the music around the pit
as this beautiful little
three-year old
danced and told
me of origins, whether knowing or not
that she differentiated as she told me which
made her movements
best for quiet songs or louder songs.

The pieces of ash floated
like fragments of sky and
you slept.
Our son growing
in you
our bed clothes
waiting in the fire-smoked
air of summer-Saturday-afternoon-
-dryings

She waited for me to chase her as you waited for me to wake you
and I found in the moment
the blueish light
of all
the promises I’ve heard and will
the promises I’ve said and will
the promises of things
of things
we’re speaking and
the movements we’ve spoken.

the wind carried these
shards of our burn pile
tossing them near you and near her
they
moved with flips in the air
these torn and broken
pieces of us
burning away
to teach our children
what we know of love…

we will always think to dance and sing
together in our fires
even if darkness is edging nearer
we’ll still sing of sunsets and rises
and dance like
the wind, the ash in the skies