“Ashes and Smoke” )
By Marty Rosen


Me and Jack, we made one last ride, before he got so weak.
We shared a bottle and we built a fire down by Muddy Creek.

The moon spilled down the mountainside. The fog was ankle deep.
Jack said, I’ll take the night watch.
He said, I ain’t got time for sleep.

He said, They come to me in the small of night, the ghosts that haunt this ground, Talkin’ how I can I can make three wishes, before they take me down.

I remember the rivers runnin’ free and wild,
Before we built those dams.
If I could see that one more time,
I’d be a happy man.

Gold, they say, We can offer you gold. And all the things money can buy.
But a thaw in the spring, and the rush of the flood.
Wish I could hear these canyons sing.

There was a girl one time down in Bowling Green, dark eyes and a honey voice.
She offered her hand and she asked me to stay – wish I’d made a different choice.


We can make you live on in dots on a map,
In stories and poems and songs.
But a swing on the porch, and a garden out back,
Wish I’d found the place where I belonged.”

We sat and watched as the fire died down, sparks falling into the fog.
If I could do just one thing different said Jack, I’d burn just like that log

I wish I had lived like a roaring flame, hot and hungry and bold,
Leaving nothing behind but ashes and smoke, all used up before I went cold.

All used up before I went cold.