My house is old Single-paned window Light pokes through Beams of dust swirl Suspended in the air And I wonder Am I just like them Floating in the void Dust-to-dust Beginning-then-end It’s grossly beautiful Dead skin cells Breathing it in Only to breathe out The galaxy spins the same We’re small Suspended in the air Specks of dust Yet beating with purpose
Be free in the present,
Trace Maddox
