Tuesday, September 25, 2012


Motes float
in the light of an overheated room
Straw broom
sweeps detritus through broad cracks between boards
Too few words
dusted coconut over a clinical goodbye
Empty blue eyes

This is not dust
Not some stupid crush
A water colour the Sun will fade
This is not dust
It will not rust
It does not float or blow away

Don't know what I missed
Why I was dismissed
Handed my hat
and shown the door
No explanation provided
Of why you decided
I am not worth the effort no more

You say you want something
For me it's all or nothing
The dust that you raised
Fills my throat and my eyes
Look into the gloom
I stand at the centre of the room
Raising my head 
and my hand and
Waving goodbye

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