Chasm, toes curled over the edge,
seeking a simian grip.
But they are the piggies of a
little girl:
-bare feet
-rosy cheeked
She stands before a gaping maw
ripped in the world.
Staring vacantly,
eyes unable to penetrate the cloud.
She rubs her eyes with tiny fists.
The ashes will fall soon,
drifting to Earth like gray snow,
piling up in tomb-like silence.
