light (too heavy)

the dust he wrote
was lighter
than a touch
from the breeze

it filled the page
mote by mote
like swirling
in a ray of fallen sunlight
dazzling through
the window

his words could dance
for him
in rainbow colours
as a blown breath

rain fell down
in the way rain
always will

the words grew heavy
caked with burden

the rain fell down

dust into earth
into mud


they danced no more

the sun returned
to bake the mud
good and hard
to hold the dust
to still
the delicate voice

hold the words


words in stasis

the dust he wrote
was lighter
than the kiss
of a passing breeze


Poem #547 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

2 thoughts on “light (too heavy)

    • đŸ™‚ Thank you, Cheryl. When I re-read this piece, I was quite taken with the ideas in it, as well.

      I tend to write and forget, so the occasion of posting gives me a chance to reacquaint with the work.


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