All That Remains

Picked up ashes

They run like sand through my fingers,

Dark sand

Like the shores of Tahiti.

Volcanic black remains

A place where our story began

Love and tenderness intermingled.

White bone,

Black ash,

And specks of golden wood.

Weighing as much as our babies

But heavier by far,

The weight of the world

Encompassed in a shoe box.

The depth of our love

To be blown on the wind.