Dust and Silk

The dust and silken sand are caught in wind
Which seems to know no mind and yet it knows,
Knows all mankind, knows why we choose the rose
To give to her when courtship doth begin.
It knows of all our gardens, all our plains
Whose produce and whose flesh sustain our life.
And tasted salty tears from every wife
And mother spinning dust and silk in vain.
It whispers through the corners of each room
And gently pushes open unlocked doors
And finds a gentle soul attending chores
And leaves a gentle swirl of dust to broom.
The wind hath been the source of savory rhymes
But sweeter still: the tinkling of its chimes.

Parker Allen Stacy, IV

Copyright 2009 Parker Allen Stacy, IV. All Rights Reserved.

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