The Lord breathed life
then blew it heavenward
scattering the dust to which
she had returned--
a specter glist'ning
in the sun-lit beams
whose specks are haunting
homes and picture frames.
So too, one day
the Lord will scatter
you and me like dust
blown off the counter-top
and gather us into
those sun-lit beams:
two specters called,
returning home,
and filling out the frame.
