Dust From Her Feet

She walks like a traveller in her home a once familiar thing, lost to her And bright-eyed watches the same night sky that demonstrates new things to her, orchestrating new patterns for her in the stars to find and paving beams of light across leaves that were strewn for her by the dawn wind slaking the limbs of her own trees for whatever thing lost that still is, She searches the dust from her own feet that she's brought from another land in a dream