Ashes and Coffee

I spilled ashes into your outreached palms

As you stooped gently to catch them

you did not act surprised

It was like knocking over a forgotten cup of coffee

left carelessly on the counter

too stale to drink

but the scent still lingered 

I noticed your hands were smooth and hesitant

But gnarled from your past

And as I continued to stare at their complexity,

the longer I inhaled air

the faster the ashes flowed from my skin 

and into your hands

Until inevitably a small pile

formed neatly rested upon your palms

Too late to retrieve into my own

So we walked hand in hand, 

With you carrying my ashes in the other

Until I reached my terminal 

To which we parted ways, with you still carrying my ashes in your hand

Reviews

[Ed Fagan]

This is definitely an intriguing write. An odd mix of metaphors that seem to work well together.

[Nope]

This poem kind of feels like love and death all in one. I really like the way you were gentle with it though and how these two themes seemed completely intertwined. I also loved these last two lines -

"Until I reached my terminal
To which we parted ways, with you still carrying my ashes in your hand".

Beautiful.

[7ofspades]

thanks for your comments! this was something i dug up from a previous journal entry. glad you liked the unison of love and death.

[Captain Rilen]

Lovely. I feel as if you engaged all of the senses in this poem. Looking forward to reading more from you.

[7ofspades]

thank you! i appreciate your feedback, i didn't intentionally try to incorporate sensory aspects into the poem, as i just wrote it as i felt fit...but now i realize it can add more meaning and value for a reader, i will keep it in mind for future writings--thanks!