Perhaps I Was A Strand of Cotton (Structure)

Perhaps I was a strand of cotton
Or the wing of a cicada
Steel beam
Gust of wind
Denim string
A tiny eyelash falling down someone’s cheek as they laughed
uncontrollably at the joke of a friend

I was a jester at court
I was a pearl on the neck of Queen Elizabeth, watching her rule a
Kingdom with grace and dominance when no one thought she would
I was the first insignificant droplet of rain which no one saw fall during a
hurricane before the weatherman forecasted his report that terrified
everyone

I was the crack in the windowpane that saw families come together and
fall apart in a cabin, then broken down into a barn for dozens of farm
animals, then land restructured for reconstruction into cookie cutter
neighborhoods whose lawns held no space between them.

I was the rubber that Carnegie put on his first car when he thought he
could do it

I was the leather on Amelia Earheart’s jacket when she told everyone to
stop projecting their doubts onto her, which kept her safe from the wind

I was the chalk on the chalkboard that fell onto the ground which broke in
half when your teacher dropped it because you sneezed in class and she
turned around

I was the shoe that the soldiers threw into the machine during the
Industrial Revolution that bore the word Sabotage

I was the original ember burning up towards the sky when man first
discovered fire

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I was saliva and cum in the mouths of millions kissing during the Sexual
Revolution

I was a plucked string on a porch the first time a child played a guitar his
brother gave him

I was a rock on a dirt, then gravel road

And all of my atoms have lived so many lives and adventures since then

We are all everything, crucial, and yet nothing