Dust In My Eyes

Wind blows a long way. In fact,
it could be said that the first breath
of Earthmother is still in motion, lifting
your hair across the light
of the setting sun, stirring
the oak leaves, blowing
dust in my eyes - it must be the dust
that causes these tears. Nothing
ever really ends, and I wouldn't cry
for that, would I? All things just
keep ringing through the changes,
and we'll never really come to the end,
you and I. A place in my heart is kept
just for you. But
I shall miss you so much, my love,
until time's great wheel brings us
together again.

© Copyright 1994 by Jessica Macbeth. All rights reserved.
This poem was first published in In The Crone's Shadow (see book list)
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