Dust

I used to hold what burned me most,

Protect the wound, defend the ghost,

But now I sweep what used to stay,

And let the dust just blow away.

I’ve stopped collecting reasons why,

They couldn’t meet me eye to eye,

I don’t decode each passing glance,

Or dance inside their psychic trance.

I guard my time like sacred ground,

No need to chase what’s never found,

I let them go without a fight,

Some ties dissolve to give you sight.

Cathrine Hottran 2025