What do I look like
In your eyes now?
Just like
A whirl of sand
Blown away
By the wind?
Or have I kept
Some of my persistent outlines,
So that in your mind’s eye
You can see me as a ghost
Asleep in a quarry?
Perhaps you understand
What I’m getting at.
I am glad you are
In a shelter, safe,
Far from everything
Here, outside.