Saturday, May 30, 2009

ten words, attempted.


dust

dust is lust expired,
transplanted by a cold gust
from the fan of extinguished heat.

as sand turned to glass breaks,
so the glinting sharp shards cut.

soiled by rapacious fingertips,
tattered pages fuel eagerness
until the yellow blaze is blackened
and all that is lasting
turns to dust.

Ruby, Dorothea Lange, Sacramento 1937.