Tag: dust
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Dust
The young can not write about dust.They know only it accumulationson floors, shelves, dirty panes.Only the old know its subtle contours,the futility that comes with just moving it around.They know that the sun and stars are dust,schools of ash that follow all life’s currents andthat blossom the new fields under Grandfather Mountain.They bend with the…
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I Think My Dog Needs a Bath
The dust of my house pirouettes to its own song, a dog-nosed existence in gray arrangements— the particulate matter of belly rubs and hocks stirring in a delicate assemblé of dog hair waiting for the start of heartfelt applause.
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Walking Along the Bay Beach at Night
The dusty stars above, the stars in waves besides,where the very sand is dust.The bay is the nightinseparable from the starsand the winding coastline,the brilliant creatures tide-linedin the black sands swirlsas we walk in their darkness—star ash, beyond the life watch,the dusty light of their spiralaway from the swish and spill,the other walkers walking back,holding…
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Dust
I find it easier to collect dust than move it around from feathery place to place.Dust is history. It holds the flavors of myself.Dust contains my words.It sits on my mantle adding more specks every year,life upon life on death.I see God in its ashes—He is dust and Dust is everythingIt swirls in endless ribbons…