I can’t keep up
with the dust.
It seems to be
ubiquitous.
I’m old and slow
not quick enough
to stop the stuff
from piling up.
It seems to have
no purpose
but to cover
every surface.
Where’s it come from?
Anyone know?
Is there somewhere
it doesn’t go?
It’s everywhere you look.
It penetrates to every nook.
It’s on the bookcase, on the books,
on picture frames, window sills,
on the blinds, on any ridge,
high and low, above the door,
on the fridge, in the drawers,
between the cabinets, on the floor,
under the table, on the plant,
on the lampshade, on the lamp,
in the closet, on the clothes,
on the mirror, on the clock.
Apparently it never stops,
but how does it get in?
When does the pile-up begin?
When does this inundation end?
Good God! It’s settling on the shelf.
I’m turning into dust, myself!
