I shall be as the dust,
Particulate.


Particulate Memory


Particulate memory;
It blows about
In the corridors
Of thine heart.

Through leaded panes of glass,
Reflected sun lighting the dust in
Slow descent,
Lethargic movements,
Slight drafts,
The master.

Smoke too;
Wafting, ephemeral ceilings,
Layered, lined.

I watch the dance between dust and smoke,
Each the lead,
The follower.

And in due time;
All too soon,

I shall be as the dust,
Particulate.

The smoke,
Ephemeral.

Dancing,

Dancing in sunlit cast shadow.





Poetry by W. Burkholder
Read 703 times
Written on 2007-03-22 at 16:12

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