Monday, January 4, 2016

Feather Duster


A collective flux of humanity
each a mote point, asserting non-space,
and carried into the strongest current, alone
only to settle,
scatter the matter
atop the surface only to
corrupt the reflection.

Iotas of equality, wanton of will
in this form invisible, divisible
and particularly unattached
loosely liberated from titles.

Breaking fields, bumping along,
cluttering the reception, static
speckled somewhere, between angled
pieces of we, as ashen air,

suspended and taut the heaviest,
scattering a smattering
of our particulate atmosphere turn
back into stardust, visible vapors
 rain in shafts, even when we cannot see,
which is why
dust lingers here at high noon,

mocking notions of clean.


Image by By Dana Berry/NASA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Black hole devours neutron star, taken 7/21/2013.

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