Dust Mites.

It is a moment of time that stretches

and is lost forever,

gone are the days

when my name ran readily

off your lips and all I could do

was let you love me, let you protect

me, now

instead the faint whisper down the phone

as my first name is met with silence,

puzzlement, an abandonment

of once proud Feminist teaching;



I am dust…


to you,


forgotten memory slides away,

the smile of a boy


in the recall,

the eyes searching out and pleading

for a pinch of once former glory,





now fading from view.


Ian D. Hall 2017