The Remains

At end of day
all that is remaining
are the remains
and they are cold

sent to dust
and dust we must
push under until all that remains

are the remains of the unknown
a ghost to us
a whisper of a thing
lingering about us
as the dust would

and it is cold
all of it
each piece particle and dust pusher
ghost of a whisperer

the breath that escapes is the coldest
it lingers in a cloud just at forefront
at the lips of a whisper
that are iced over and daggered

the breath that escapes just freezes
the words in clouds
the clouds a puff that wafts off

the ghost has a visitor
that follows and plucks
plucks the words out
and pockets them

to be saved and spent
in whispers
in conversations
in pleasantries
that unfreeze the ghost

that pluck at the strings
that bind and hold
and finally escape into air
bristling with excitement

cold has not caught on here
in this cloud of excitement
that lingers about the visitor
that whispers in smiles

plucks and skips along
drops a hint here and there
of mint
peppered and strong

takes your will and drags you along
happily in bristling excitement
into air pure and clear
whispered gently in your ear

come along my dear