what was left

A few more miles
I will walk.

Muddied, unrecognized
And bothered by dust.

Remembering the day
Of cradled urns.

Remains of their plight
Tousled in rain.

Tell me these tire marks
Are dark and real.

Scent of raw leaves
Not of a past.

Remind me that I am a droplet more
Than infancy’s scuffed shadow.

Cat No. 53 of the 500 Cats Project