Songkran Sorrow.

I should have known

that it would burn would burn would burn

but all I thought was how it had

burnt the walls and roads and rice

till it was all ash

and gone away in the wind.

How I hated this house of stone

that stood so stubbornly

No windows or I too

could have drifted away in the breeze

No windows or I too

could have seen all was left

was me

But I couldn't see and I didn't think

that there was anything left

for the bright red fingers to choke to ash

the sticky grey ash comes under the door

and makes you sneeze and snarl

What a frightful thing you are

if I had anything left of fear.

So I took the silver strand

when you were deeply drunkly dead

and I stained the silver red

and I sliced off your roaring head

burn burn burn

how it burns

and when all the nights are gone

I will stay awake remembering

how you burnt and screamed

The door came undone

and I chose to run

all bare feet and air

against the layers and layers of ash

through the piles and pile of debris

and you burnt you burned you rolled

burning after me

rolling with your open face all heat and flame

and I suddenly remembered there was no one who

could have remembered your name

No one could calm you could bind you

you were a thing undone

and it was I with my silver strand

I with my red stained hand

who had opened the door

The way was becoming green

and then grey again with you behind me

and I ran I ran I ran

and the people came from their doors

their locked doors their strong doors

and they wept they wept they wept

and I ran