And when it is over
and finally the last of the ashes
float into the sea
the sky clears
blue concave lens
through which I cannot see
here I will breathe
as if underwater
oxygenated flow over gills
I don't need to understand
bathed
of muddy ash
supplied with what I need

I think these things
   as prayers....

  grey flecks
        swirling down
            around me