MarPoWriMo 2

A story I heard
one time in middle school

a belief that dust motes
are departed souls

seemed plausible 
that dust evolved 

to see each other 
standing apart together 

illuminated by light
from an unidentifiable source 

to place shaped ashes 
on shining foreheads

to recall what we have been
and where we are going

between everything
so small and everywhere