The graphite colored smoke, that rose from your charcoal covered body, in billows of silver.
The ferocious orange and yellow flames, that dance at the thought of bringing your bones into the sun.
The smell.
Sandalwood and gasoline.

Silky clean hair shines
in momentary sunlight

Scent of sandalwood stirs
in the breathing air

Holy silence blesses
each perfect now

It's a cloudy, sunny day.
The kind in between light
And dark, gently swaying
In grey. I'm here watching
Smoke dance with the wind,
On time with the tiny band
That plays just beyond my
Gentle understanding.