“DUST”
By:
Linda J. Hutchinson

Being dust can be fun
as the wind picks me up

and I fly through
the air.

I whirl and I twirl
and silently I leave

a blanket of powder on
things everywhere.

I flutter onto
porches and
plants

and I cover freshly washed
cars with delight and glee.

I swish through doors and
windows making cleaning
tedious

as I blast through cracks too
small to see.

People get angry at
me when I get into
their food

and I hurt them
when I get into
their eyes.

Don't they know that I am sorry,

but "Dust" has no
choice of when or
where it flies.

I don't mean to
cause trouble,

but I do with my
irritating grains.

Often I just sit outside
for a long time,

sometimes I
get washed
away by
hoses or
splattered
by the rains.

I do sympathize for people
when I get stirred up

and I
make
them
cough or
sneeze.

But though I am a pest,
my destiny in life is

to be blown
everywhere by
"Mr. Breeze".

This is one of
my favorite
poems and I am
thankful to be
able to share it
with you.
Sincerely:
Linda J.
Hutchinson