Ashes of War by Yucheng Tao

Ashes are another form of tears,

after crying, after losing a homeland.

I burn paper money

for the ancestors.

They might be dancing

in an unknown world, celebrating

that I still survive

in this cold palce.

They try to vouchsafe blessings

to change my fate—

like an oasis in the desert

where I am found.

Ashes rise — do I wait

for the blessings to grow,

like aloe vera?

Ashes rise. Tiny flames

lick our faces.

I pray to my departed loved ones,

begging to escape this fire—

a cruel revelation.

When I stand in the ruins

of a broken battlefield,

pain becomes

the only real world for me.

broken battlefield