Dust (Original)

Of all our rage and glory,
Of the wars and the parades
Of the funding for the vets
And the ribbons for the same,
Dust.

For all the graying worry
And the quiet nights in bed,
For the victories and gold
That live only in your head,
Dust.

In the moments in between
In the centuries long dead
In longing for legacy
In the brick and mortar red,
Dust.

On the silent telephone
On the unmade, empty bed
On the sill and stirred to air
On the breath of death, god sped,
Dust.

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All photos used are original

Have you started your story yet for the 1st Steemit Story Slam Challenge?!? Entries are due by Friday the 13th!

The 11th Poetry Slam Challenge is also going on, with poems due by Friday the 13th!