A Light Dusting - Sept 5 2020

 

A Light Dusting

Sept 5 2020

It settles, drifts, accumulates,

steady

relentless

impartial.

It's said to come from space,

star stuff and meteors

and interstellar gas.

From desert sand

and sun-baked earth

and silt and soot and dirt,

on Mistral and Sirocco

Santa Ana, Foehn.

And from human skin

for simply having lived,

shed

abraded

replenished

over and over again.

I return

to the old house

that has been sitting undisturbed.

An even layer of dust

has claimed every surface,

deepening the dark

with its dull grey pall.

I vacuum, wipe, brush

but still, it comes,

steady

relentless

impartial.

I see it dance

on warm currents of air,

drifting past

and drafting up.

In bright shafts of lights,

where it tumbles and spins

and cartwheels-off into shadow.

And know how it will end

for each of us.

Birth

then burning bright

then certain slow decline,

like guttering flames

reduced to cooling ash.

And as ashes to ashes

from dust to dust;

returning to soil

our elements

the basic stuff of stars.