the spirits of the woods

The spirit of the woods

The ash in the wood burner is still warm,
white and esoteric as an unborn dream;
a sin to shovel it into a sink bucket when
it looks holy and ought to have been
strewn upon the calm sea together with
wreaths and individual red roses.

With the first drops of rain on the ash, in
the bucket, dust clouds arise and disperse
like souls of the forest, but as the shower
increases in strength the ash drowns and
becomes silt; when rain stops and sun
warms crops the grieving has past.