The ashen man walks down nighttime streets,
Looking in on store displays.
Recently dead and cremated hence,
Literally turned to dust.
The deceased pauses at a lit window,
And looks at the scene therein.
A family lives, filled with cheer and life.
They hold one another close.
Yearning, he presses his face ‘gainst the pane,
And white-blue embers fly up.
Suddenly, quite startled, he backs away
From what he no longer has.
And then, bright lights shine, not too far from him.
He makes no effort to move.
Soon a driver could swear he hit a man,
But there’s nothing but ashes.