Monday Poem: To Dust

To Dust

 

I fall slowly down
To lie on dead ground
And be forgotten.

I turn to dust
And am spread out
Everywhere on dry dead winds.

Then, that young woman daydream walking
Of her marriage dread
Steps forward, through my dust.

I stick to the hard-worn skin of her walking soles
And become the dust of a vague memory
She washes from the end of her weary day.

 

(First published in Interpoetry issue 15 (website no longer available)