Spirit of Dust

I am dust. Held together by will
and a spirit far stronger than myself,
always on the edge of being dispersed,
becoming invisible with a strong rain.

I am dust. Easily abandoned.
Easily wiped clean, but strangely persistent,
always returning. A bit of beauty,
a bit of horror. Held together.

growing more vague by the moment,
but never quite gone.
I am dust. Soft, beautiful, strange
dancing between invisible and eternal.

About this poem

A poem inspired by the dust from the Canadian wildfires that are affecting our skies in Vermont right now. A poem influenced by all the times I have felt invisible. A poem influenced by all I have survived. Poetry is never about one thing.

The photograph was taken in Rockingham County, Virginia.

Tom