Dust

Dust

An open window,
the scent of rain
thick and sweet on tarmac.

In every drop, you say,
a piece of dust;
beneath our bed

a summer’s worth –
fragments of hair, the skin
we’ve shed, particles

of pollen, paper, soil, ash,
trapped in blankets,
powdering the surfaces

of suitcases heavy
with woollens and socks.
When winter comes

we’ll brush off these layers
with yellow cloths –
each mote, shaken out

to lift on cold air,
a seed on which
water might condense.

This summer
will come to us again
in the heart of the rain.

Victoria Gatehouse lives in West Yorkshire and has an MA in Poetry from Manchester Metropolitan University. Her poems have appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies including Mslexia, Magma, The North, Poetry News, The Interpreter’s House, Ink Sweat and Tears, Artemis, Furies, The Emma Press Anthology of Mildly Erotic Verse and Her Wings of Glass. Competition successes include Ilkley, Mslexia, Poetry News Members’ Competition, Prole Laureate and Poetry Space amongst others.

Victoria Gatehouse was shortlisted for the 2016 Flambard Poetry Prize. An anthology featuring more poems by 2016’s prizewinners is available here.