Thursday, January 20, 2005

Poem: The Properties of Dust

pulled from the riverbank
blown together from dust


so far above the earth
so far below the sky

as the wind blows
across the face of water
as the sound blows
sand into the air

where it turns
so high above me
before settling quietly
beneath my feet

crushed... leaving nothing
but a dry grit on my lips
coating my tounge

it tastes like nothing
it tastes like the soil
beneath my feet

so i trace lines in the dirt
vainly trying to draw voices
out of the ground

but for all of my sweat
i reap only dust

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