the valley of ashes

Returning back to all that is familiar, in all the most eerie ways,

It is snowing, but it’s not cold,

It is cloudy, without a cloud in the sky,

Raining from the sky,

Drops shattering on the pavement, then blowing into the wind,

Up in smoke,

Our lives,

Our friends,

Our homes,

Like something out of a Fitzgerald novel, the valley of ashes stirs, and then is silent,

Up in smoke.


This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741