but no humans
don't like the flowers
but the weeds
You can't kill
Not like flowers
"Ashes, ashes, all fall down."
--Ring Around the Rosies (Children's Song)
"...and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust." --Book of Common Prayer (Anglican)
We are intelligent ash. Eventually we crumble and become dust. Do the echoes of our thoughts sift through living ghosts and smudge inspiration on strange minds?