was grown in an oven
they named me
residue
ash for short
once swept out of their hearth
was tossed
left traces on everything
was born again in a dustbin
emptied into
a heap on the curb
blew around a lot
they called me mistake and
stain
though I answered to neither saying
ash, ash I am
holding a little heat but not to
smolder
like a resentment
would prefer
to warm a garden
blend into fertile soil
unhated
Dark Matter 