Vesuvius

By T.N. Haynes

They say
the aftershocks shook paint from chapel walls,

For days

Rendered pillars into powder—
a triturate of

promises/                   /oaths

unmet/                        /betrayed,

And

hopes/                         /prayers

dashed/                      /unheard.

They say a sooty residue
forever clogged the cogs of gratitude, and

Encased

a void

to forever and ever

avoid.