Dust of ages

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Feet drag through the dust of ages,

Gutters filled with greasy ash,

Scribbled verse on yellowed pages,

Grave spot-speckled, rusty rash.

 

Gutters filled with greasy ash,

When sun sets on the final day,

Grave spot-speckled, rusty rash,

A white gull calls to lead the way.

 

When sun sets on the final day,

There’s no more moon to light the night,

A white gull calls to lead the way,

Beyond the doorway bathed in light.

 

There’s no more moon to light the night,

Concrete dust and crumbled stone,

Beyond the doorway bathed in light,

Left behind when gull has flown.

 

Concrete dust and crumbled stone,

Like sands washed on the farthest shore,

Left behind when gull has flown,

I vow that I’ll see you once more.

 

Like sands washed on the farthest shore,

My heart in fragments longs to follow,

I vow that I’ll see you once more,

Borne on the swift wings of the swallow.

 

My heart in fragments longs to follow,

Golden light falls, beckons onward,

Borne on the swift wings of the swallow,

I’ll leave behind life’s treasure hoard.

 

Golden light falls, beckons onward,

Feet drag through the dust of ages,

I’ll leave behind life’s treasure hoard,

Scribbled verse on yellowed pages.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

6 thoughts on “Dust of ages”

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