catapult magazine

Ash Wednesday

by Rachel Stone

Today (is/is not) every day.

Today I’m dust returning to dust.
A half-remembered dream
Animate; by morning light, speaking.
Still, silent, dark, by night
Seasons, styles, people
Show up, do their thing, fade out, forgotten.

Restless, yet resting
I hide, held by the one who afflicts, who forgets
Sleeping in palm of the one who remembers and takes pity
On my face, the cinder-cipher: Death
Facing resurrection
Facing nightless day.