Dust

DUST

You could write your name in that

My mother said

So I did

And with flourish and fanfare drew a dramatic little line underneath

To emphasise my existence in the dust

And she laughed

And with one swipe

She swept my name and my line away

Declared this room done: refreshed

But I had seen the motes that float in the air,

Witnessed them settle on my dresser and gather

Until I could write my name.

And I knew they’d be back again.