The ashes of nobodies
(No bodies?)
Are in a mausoleum
Placed on a shelf
Without ceremony
As if life repeats itself in death
Held without specific honor
No proof of ancestry
Tracing roots back to the dust
They’ve returned to
without a name or with
unknown cause or suppos-ed
forgotten or lost
As if life repeats itself in death
No words to dress them in Saint’s clothes
A hurried end without recompense
Humbly offered words of worth
They did exist here on earth
They dreamed the dreams of all of us
But the shelter line was drawn too high
The cracks they fell into, too deep
As if life repeats itself in death
Mare Martell 
In my opinion, the line may be finer than we know. Lovely, Mare. A wonderful return to WP for me. We’re not completely moved yet, but I have a moment to check in and I was so glad to see this thoughtful and poignant post. 🙂 ❤️
Thank you. I’ve got an idea in my head and heart from where this is growing. Glad to know your move is going well