By Dinah Henry
-
We are dust.
When we die,
our bodies turn into dust if we were buried.
We start from dust.
There is dust everywhere.
Dust is here, like where
we walk, go to, breathe in,
Dust may be your future
child
that you haven't thought about
yet.
Dust is in the ground.
We came from dust,
yet there is more to come
Dust.
About the Author
Dinah Henry has been at ICC for almost 5 years. She has published 4 poems in this magazine. Dinah lives in Sparland, Illinois. She listens to music while she writes her poetry or other stuff. She is shy and mostly pays attention to her schoolwork. You might find her in classes or in the hallways of ICC with her bestie, Logan. Please tell her how her work is, and tell her if she is doing a good job. She can't wait for what comes next in her life's journey.