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dust settles

dead skin

I trace my finger

through you

wishing you

were here

not gone

in a cloud

of dust

not spread

across my


like winterfall

and so

I don’t clean

I sit and stare

at the places

you have been

the places

where you

touched me

kissed me

before the rage

and arguments

before the crying

and the hurt

before you said

you needed time

to let

the dust settle…..

dustdusty roomleavingargumentsadnesslost love

◄ Cycle Of The Scarecrow

On Sandal's Field Of Ghosts ►


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Thu 26th Sep 2013 21:47

I like this too, ditto Simon and Dave!!
Another clever piece.

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Wed 25th Sep 2013 16:20

I like it Ian - it's fascinating to think that we are all surrounded by particles of other people.

I like the flow you've got going in this non rhyming piece - and I love the catch at the end.

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Simon Marks

Tue 24th Sep 2013 17:23

As Dave said, very thought-provoking and moving stuff.

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Dave Bradley

Tue 24th Sep 2013 00:00

Powerful Ian especially "I trace my finger through you, wishing you were here". Much sympathy if it's current.
You might be interested in another poem about dust (thought-provoking stuff)

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