I carry the buckets heavy with ash
from the spot where love burned
long in the past.
Charred earth remains.
Charred hopes dashed.
Passion so bright it lit up the night.
Only ash remains in dawn’s cold light.
Ash is good for the soul.
It reminds us what we all know
in the darkest recesses
where we seldom go.
We are dust.
and return to dust we must.
Thus, I carry buckets, yours and mine,
with ashes from a brighter time
where light was stronger,
where we could see better.
When we were stronger,
and we were better.
I remember the sparks
that lit love sublime
as I empty the buckets
and spread a dust so fine.
It covers the garden bed
where our roses now climb.
Each rose is a kiss
recalled from the time
when your touch started a fire
and your lips on mine
offered a taste of the Divine.
And love, warm love,
continues to grow.
Its fire now banked
in a steady, warm glow.
annarino writes 
Beautiful Louise!! Have a great day