Ashes, Dirt, And Wicker

dead bird lying in a wicker cage. hands on the old clock... ...... stopped! train tracks that tremor, and nothing comes. you cant build a fire in ashes.... look back. the fields behind you are brown, and barren... the memory of rows gone back to dirt... just dirt! the stranger at the door never speaks, never asks, never waits for you to gather yourself... words lose their form and fall like raindrops that disappear into thirst... thirst, that creates anew, and never remembers falling! ashes to ashes... remember, you cant build a fire in ashes... dead bird lying in a wicker cage... hands on the old clock... ....... stopped!