poetry
Patricia Runyan and Gilbert Olivarez
Dust is a Metaphor for Everything
Imagine the dust as bright as sand in the sun,
only the wind holds it together
as it passes through our yard.
Imagine the wind as bright as the sun on the sand,
only the dust in the wind holds the sunlight together
as it passes through our yard.
Imagine that I am the dust and you are the wind
And you lift me up and thrill me in the air
And then you toss me upon the earth, the yard, our
yard,
And my pain shines brightly in the light.
In the light that I feel
how I see that my bones are the dust.
The dust settled down the morning she was born.
It laid down against the rock and the weed and it was
quiet.
She grew tall in the dust.
And when she moved through it,
She knew she was home.
And there were times
when it made her quiet.
And there were times
When she danced with the sunlight, in the yard,
At home in the dust.
Desert morning galleons
dark shadows
like black
billowing
canvas sails
gently move
along the mountain side
as clouds above
float
across the sky.
4.8.16
Marathon Texas.
by Gilbert Olivarez
by Patricia Runyan
Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2016
13