We dusted the ashes from our clothes

And above the valley we surveyed

The charred, blackened husks

Of those we called lovers and friends.

The rivers and streams of molten death

Carved uncountable digits into homes

No longer defining location or reference.

Crosswalks familiar are grayed out

Warped beyond recognition

Buried in the landslides of the guiltless.

The tops of trees no longer are above us

But rival bridges with connections

All but lost in time and motion.

Churches and schools lie desolate

With the fading embers of sanctuary

Swallowing hope with gasping breaths.

We dust off the ashes from our clothes

And set off to begin again.