Saturday, 2 December 2023

A Poem a Day (612): Dust

 
Dust
 
We are one,
but we are not everything.
We are part, unwhole, redrawn,
eclipsed by night.
 
This is how we bear it,
restride and untie, this walk
back into soundless oblivion.
Turn out the light.
 
We can’t wear it.
Disheveled, the weight drags.
And dust-moted morning breathes
an eternity away.

Copyright September 29, 2023

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