Monday, March 26, 2012


Each mote of dust is dear to me
iota of infinity
along with all the sediment
that lingers like an old lament—

the residue
that must ensue
because we fail to follow through
when swept away
or dredged someday
can help reveal what fears belay.


izzy said...

Love lament! such a neat word-
thanks for visiting!

rch said...

Same to you 8^D