Cloud of Dust
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Cloud of Dust
Every day the sign— someone was coming. We could see it miles away on the flat, western plain. The day of our wedding, the minister late, we scanned the horizon. Should we marry without the preacher?
Every day a sign— we will marry the dust. Three pale pink gladioli stalks, one for my hand, two for our graves. The wind, faithful messenger, [End Page 75] lifts its wings, riffles the pages: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here, then there, grit in our kisses, our fingers tracing the other as a million motes rise up and fall. [End Page 76]
Jean Janzen’s seventh collection of poems, Paper House, was published in 2008 by Good Books. She has been published in numerous journals and anthologies, and has a book of lectures, Elements of Faithful Writing (Pandora P).
