Ashes

Ashes.

Ashes.

Snowing ashes.

                Breathing ashes.

Sucking them in and choking them out.

Gagging, gasping, suffocating.

They’ve become the road I walk, the food I eat, the water I drink.

They’ve become the clothes I wear, the tears in my eyes, the blood in my veins.

These ashes that burn my throat and coat my lungs.

I’m blind.  I’m drowning.  I’m longing for the sunlight.

But all there is more grey, more endless cloud, more choking for every step I take. 

I taste the bitter taste of the ashes.

All that remains of the people who burned in the city.