A small ashtray in my desk drawer
started it all
forgotten
biding its time
ready and waiting there
with a big bad boulder to roll in my way
I suddenly swerved
into the oncoming sorrow
and wept
But that ashtray is nothing
compared to those in the oddest
and most likely
of places:
smack dab in the middle of many beds
in the boxes full of photos
in the basement and that time the water gushed in
Boulders of ashes everywhere
There's an ashtray
on a corner in town
in the set of a jaw
a posture
a back of a head
or a strange dropped foot gait
(this one is the worst)
Ashes in
ice cream
(never ever mocha)
or butter
(never ever put back in the fridge)
On any hilltop
I find a vessel of ashes
from that first time I knew
we would have years in common
grandchildren in common
and a whole lot else
in common
I have ashtrays all over my house
with bits or torrents
of the ashes of my marriage
Where will I put them all now?
I am overwhelmed with the response to a recent freewrite of mine https://steempeak.com/freewrite/@owasco/anniversary-a-suffocation.
The post elicited all kinds of sorrow from others.
One of the sorrows was recurring, and horrible: to wake from a dream of a loved one and have to relive their death.
I want to thank all of you who have shared your sorrows with me and the priceless help you have given.
This freewrite is a continuation of that in some way.
This is my entry to 
I set the timer for 4:30, then stopped writing and proofread for long enough but not too long.
Here are a few other related poems I have published on steem:
https://steemit.com/poetry/@owasco/we-never-did-resolve-the-argument-over-the-butter-dish
https://steemit.com/poetry/@owasco/exposed-a-poem-for-my-husband
https://steemit.com/poetry/@owasco/the-champ
https://steemit.com/poetry/@owasco/fugue
Thank you