EARTH FROM THE MACHINE

Silent praise for matter

Trodden ground
dust of slow steps, nameless roots.

Light touches the faceless footprints:
only marks remain.

Tired metals, fossil skin in the sun, lines that the earth preserves.

Matter becomes a memory of extinguished light, footsteps without an echo.

It is not a return, it is what light embraces:
beauty that endures.

Dried botanicals, rusting steel a fragile balance.

The earth does not ask for the steps it welcomes: a eulogy to the residual.