Weight of Dust

Pulsing in the back of a long chain
the weight of memory
brings me to a silence
leading my eyes
back to the pinpoint figure
standing with arms at the side.
Memory fail me now
I may plead but
streaming film of days past
leaves me pushing over
the jagged rock in front of me.
Watching a video
back and forth;
the stains of a sepia summer haze
I blush to match the warm red colors
in every sunset wherein I recall a shadow.
Comfortable on the same two feet
facing forward between the grass and
an unfortunate entanglement
I have stared straight at before.
It pleases the dust on the edges
entangling the corners of this
weightless chain
to blow off the small pieces of
the dirt left by the heat emblazoned season
Weightless maybe,
but dust does carry its own burden
when a cough pushes its way
out of my mouth and into the air.