dust and still
I thrill
with particularity
starring in lost skies, I
summon my own gazers, admiring
abhorring, shoved by my pull, so moved –
dreamt up transport my body and voice, for one, believed
across an empty field on the hospital grounds
my name seemed every where and why, whispered almost senseless
but still, the single drop of raw concern
was real, quaveringly, my star
spilled, the gazers
scattered, I
sifted
down
dust and still