Husks

the Work
took so much from him

that when he finally rested

he blew away.

where the husk landed
was a husk.
a heap of husks.

the Work stepped lightly
on them when it came that way

and they powdered.
they ended up as dust
on the sole of the Work’s foot.

in the steps of the Work
was the dust
of the husks.

if you look,
you can see the whorls
of the Work’s
bare footprint.
if you ask,
the Work has no
one human name.

the husks
remain somewhere
back on the trail of
the Work. 
if you seek them,
you will be

disappointed
when you see the pile

and unable to explain 
the Work
by sifting the shreds

through your fingers.
you will learn

how little you knew of him
that made him any different
from anyone else
whose husk
is now mingled with the others.

perhaps that news
is on the feet of the Work
but it is now
so far along
there will be no point
in trying to catch up.