Dusty Urns


Smiling faces
what about clouded urns
filled to brimming.
Those ornate gilt-edged
some tawdry, some beautiful,
                                          Most with memories

Dust and embers,
fragments and fissures,
Bony, calcified .
Will the eons take them away  
change to dust and make
those stratified live
like beacons

Pull the way
On, slip into the abyss
Watch as soiled colors of My life

meandering byways ,
broken sighs  
Boughs, bent and twisted,
her form aligned then put back
A hastily re-arranged akimbo
of twigs and sticks

whose will is taken ,
whose will is spoken,
whose will is changed.

He cloaks in that deepening

And she puts the urn
Back in the

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