Dust

I don’t want you slipping away
Like dust on the lip of counters grey
Conducting business concrete creep
I'll blow with the wind that bids me pay

I can feel you slipping away
Can’t hold on to what I’ve broken
Like all those toys and radios
That didn’t answer to what I'd spoken

Twenty years cannot erode
Like paint that peels the days away
Marks me down as also-ran or raconteur
Time will stand my colours to display

Twenty years cannot erode
Nor lighten the unspoken burden
That lies between us uncertain
A weight that creaks the blowing curtain

Twenty years slipping away
Like dew on the lip of morning fey
These crystalline thoughts cannot endure
The interactive onslaught of today


January 2011