Sat in the Ash and Thought

I have burned my best bed
And doused my ears in ice,
And now I lie in this,

I thought, a few years back,
And thought, well, that is that.
That was not that. Oh, no.

Once you’ve made, scorched, and drenched
Your bed, you don’t just get
To lie in it—if not

Dead. Get up. Rise and walk,
Or what you do to move.
You can sit with the ash,

You can think through your sins,
And you can make your peace.
But then? Get up. No end.