was grown in an oven

they named me 
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
though I answered to neither saying

ash, ash I am 

holding a little heat but not to
like a resentment

would prefer
to warm a garden
blend into fertile soil



About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

2 responses to “Refugee

  • Eileen

    Literally thousands of years of refugee’s…….everyone’s ancestors have been refugees in some century surely.
    My daughter-in-law posted a cartoon or an Indian telling a Pilgrim, “We don’t take refugees.” I couldn’t resist pointing out how taking refugees had turned out for native Americans. She responded, “They didn’t vet them.”

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