Dust to Dust

Nevermind that keeping ashes on the mantel feels ghoulish, and comically impractical: not just another thing, a miniature memento urn, to dust, but dust to dust— I dread the conversational Hara-kiri, not, that’s what’s leftof my brother, but, he died of suicide: the chasm of silence following the leap— so the cremains stay in the office closet till they migrate through no will of their own to a moving box I haven’t unpacked and likely won’t.