scraps

I feel the edges

as I tear up
your letters, watch
pieces fall to the floor

where scraps scatter
below and about
some face up, but
most settle down  
                          
I gather them later
to rekindle
the fire we built
not so long ago
                        
but the embers
are cold and black 
and the ashes
have all blown away

only these scraps
in my fingers
remain, nothing
to bear but waste.
                      

-dp-
 5-9-14