AN ODE TO ASHES IN THREE STAGES


December is the warmest month, bringing
Confusion, stereotypes undone,
Cos usually, there is no sun,
All coherence lost, only darkness and frost.
The day might start behind a wall of water, and soon
It's sinking, committing a manslaughter. But this noon
The sun is shining, fulfilling the dreams of a sensitive smoker.

I am standing and watching the sun, like an old friend.
Come with me to watch the sun, my new friend,
I will show you happiness in a spoonful of light.
Well, I might, unless
The darkness has already come to pour water on ashes,
And leave only flashes of memory of a short tide.

December is the cruelest month, bringing
The shortest days and the longest nights, singing
The odes to frost and coherence lost, killing
Happiness, sinking
The sun in the tons of water. Let not happen this.