Compostable Dust

I imagine death
socking me
as I change lanes,
my hair flying as
it did in my youthful dancing

I imagine death
dulling me
as I lounge
watching war and weather casualties
on the tv news

I imagine death
surprising me
while I stretch in yoga class
earnestly trying to reach

I imagine death
counting what years I have
and know more deeply
that I am dust.