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OMG…I remember sitting on my bed, looking at the tremendous amount of dust, and getting inspired not to dust, but rather to write. I think this entry speaks for itself. How many of you feel or have felt the same? To this day, I do not like dusting….sigh…it’s not for me!


DUST

What is this dust
I do see
piled high
unceremoniously.
On table tops
And parts of floor
Cleaned——so,
infrequently.

What is this dust?
That peeks out at me,
from corners high
and hanging free.
From baseboards low
that have the look,
of being dusted……
seldomly.

I don’t like dusting
It’s clear to see.
The chore of dusting
Is not for me.
Is this to say
That I am not
The best housekeeper
I was taught—to be?

If dusting were
a thing of the past,
I’d no longer see
dust particles last.
Only to accumulate
and never made
To meet their fate,
on a frequent basis
Which I hate,
as it only seems to
propagate,
The endless fall of particles.
Ready to retaliate—
my weakly efforts
To dust off
Those microscopic
Bits of fluff.

©Loly Mireles

~ 2/19/05

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