Dust

in a fit
of sentiment i said
how all
all of this will turn
to dust, dust, dust

but as i dust
with this rag along
the edges of this picture
frame and catch your eyes
looking out from other
days

i do not say, ah,
this dust is my own
turning
to dust

thick as motes rising upon these sun-
beam stairs--
choo--i sneeze as i
cross through