a seed
covered in dirt
alone and cold
in the dark wet earth
but out I sprout
into the sun
just as I am
alongside no one

I am
a cloud
hovering in the grey sky
I rain on everyone
that passes by
but I cool off the grass
as the afternoon passes
and spread my shade
on every emerald blade

I am
the dust
that lays on the table
swept up as Clark Gable
in a switch of the wrist
but I’m grist for the mill
with my paper and quill