Memo to Dust

A Memo to Dust

Stay out of the air
Stay out of my hair

I remember being six
My head
Hanging off the edge of the bed
Your twirling dance
In the slanting sun
The joy of thinking
How much you looked
Like atoms or molecules
The spots on my eyeball
The stuff everything is made of
And so much of you
Thrown into disarray
When I jumped in the air

Bunnies with no ears
Drifting about

Now you are my creeping enemy

You cover everything I want to look clean
Some people are allergic to you
I’m not, but I can’t stand you all the same
You make everything look old and unloved.

A memo to dust

From man you arise
And to man you shall return