Dust

Dust is heated and rising

And the lowest peak followed

And the harm of touching it tomorrow

Avoid what it has touched

It did not return after its rise

It did not descend.. did not fall

And he thinks a white garment

And its whiteness is dust that has gathered

He comes to wash his garment

The rain falls what it has put

Until a cloud met it

And its blackness is moisture that pushed

The cloud was his garment

On a clear day, spots

So when he saw that the cloud

If it came, it cracked

He threw back behind it

Beware of what he did

And the smoke sought the heights

And he called it the pollution of that spring

And it lined up in a row and did not

Know the clarity by what it prevented

And he thinks in its rings

This is the sky, so what is the benefit

The dust settled in our land

From a revolution that absorbed it

Even the feet played

This is the accumulated dust