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Where the Dust Gathers
by Michael Channing
a snowflake of skin
a granule of salt
shed the last time i stumbled in
and bedded down to a halt
the unimportant slough
breezed into corners
with the fibers and fluff
by the rotation of nurses and mourners
prematurely gone to dust
there i fell and there i stayed
scattered like prayers by the family i trust
thankful to die in a house without a maid
Harmless Flight
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Quiet Little Ruckus
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Moth and Me
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Surrender Dorothy
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Speak No Smoke
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Chokes and Warbles
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Formerly a Bird
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