ON THE ASHES

I stand on the ashes of all i have ever loved,

Alone like a storm-tossed wreck with memories of a broken heart.

Faint and distant as the light of a sun that has long set,

I break upon a trifle abut like an ineptly contrived porcelain; so fragile as a spider's web on a forsaken rampart.

I bend upon my earnest quondam like some rapt poet over his rhyme,

Grazing though excruciating recalls as fresh as a first beam glittering on a sail.

I snatch furiously at breath like death snatched at all the bygones,

When the spiral tightens, until i am finally able to exhale..