Abbie Kiefer

Prayer with Dust


that laces my weeping

fig                 the base-

board’s jut                 fussy spindles on the stair-

case                & neglected edges 

of each tread—                

this dust                 

partly us:                

skin sloughed from friction

of touch                plus pollen                cotton 

culled from our socks                

& the wood-

stove’s hushed cinder—                our ashes

lulled to dust 

that will settle                 resettle                

regard-

less—               

so when it comes to rest                 

on my running

shoes                loved 

books                my mother’s 

mother’s china cups               exactingly formed 

from clay 

and bone dust—                may there be 

a settling

up                a peace-

making                even 

as I shush 

shush my hands—                unable to help

it—                brushing 

back what I can—

Back to Issue XIV…

Lynne Ellis writes in pen. Their words appear in Poetry Northwest, The Seventh Wave, the North American Review, the Missouri Review, Bracken, and many other beloved journals and anthologies. Winner of the Washburn Prize, the Perkoff Prize, and the Red Wheelbarrow Poetry Prize, she believes every poem is a collaboration. Read their digital chapbook, "Future Sketchbook," online at Harbor Review. Ellis holds a Certificate in Editing from the University of Washington, serves as a poetry reader at Crab Creek Review, and is Publishing Editor of Tulipwood Books, a developmental-editing press. She wants to work with you.