DUST, LIGHT, MUSIC

Through the window a shaft of light;

The dust dances; music plays

And only I to watch the dust

And only I to hear the music.

What year was this? Long gone;

If the dust next day had chanced

Or willed to join with other things

And so be born a man that man

Would be finding now his first gray hairs

Should I recognize him as he passes

Curling himself against the cold

I would think “I have not forgotten;

You were dust then but you danced

In a slant of light.”