Poem: (Set Asunder)

You could be spinning

in the shhhhh of the wind,

a mote, glimmering in the sun,

swirling through the bows

of the pines and firs,

belonging to everyone.

You could be spinning,

a solitary ash in a cloud

of smoke, going to beauty,

as I breathe you in,

for a moment holding the one

belonging to no one.


_________________________________________________________

Well, it's two-for-one day here, I guess. I've had the idea for this poem for awhile, but I haven't been able to articulate it.