The Lament

In ways that are not tangible
your hands cannot grip
eyes can't resolve
the arms of someone
who can no longer be embraced

cremating harden bodies
that cooks
into melting ashes
that sprinkles down

like black pepper
seasoning out its condolences
tasting of bitter-bitter melodies 

can no longer be embraced
they have no bodies
they have sprinkled  away
offering in

a prolific morning
of our
darkest  
joyful
melodies