A fine layer of ash covers my wagon.
Touching it, black specks coat my finger.
Studying what may be trivial dust,
I ponder this as I linger:
What if these ashes came from a tree,
Now lying down, so far away?
Once home to a nest of baby birds,
But only ashes here today.
Perhaps they have flown so long and far
From a home, evacuated.
Or maybe they’re from a family’s store
The opening, long-awaited.
Each of the specks carries a story.
Who knows what burned before
The remnants traveled so many miles
To land on my wagon’s floor?
More poetry: “Hung Above Them All” & “Teddies”
I love this poem, Eliana! So good!
Thank you, Ella!
Very nice poetry, Eliana!
(Whoops, my other reply was actually a separate comment.) Thanks, AJ!
Thanks, AJ!
I love it!!!
Thank you!!
This is beautiful Eliana.
I love it.
Aw, thank you, Tabby!
I think you did a great job! (Hope the pre-calc got done too 😉
Thank you! (Of course! XD)
We enjoyed reading your contemplative poem! Also, congratulations on having your article accepted by the Wilting Rose Project!
Thank you so much!
Very well done Eliana. Did you get the idea to write it from all the fires we had this summer.
Congrats on getting published, Sorry this is late. Love
Thank you, Grandma! Yes, I did! I actually wrote this in September, I think. =) Thank you!