Dust---- Who Cares
She was immensely house proud
mess not a single trace,
covers on furniture like a shroud,
Dust ….. oh my dare not show its face
Until…….
That day she fell over the vacuum hose
she lay on the floor in so much pain,
wishing, she hadn’t spotted the dust mote
knew her life wouldn’t be the same.
Had to sit there, her leg in plaster
looking at things that landed on her gleam.
A thin film of dust was straddling the furniture
so much so, she could write her name.
Then realised looking sparkling wasn’t the answer
dust was an item we could all live with.
Friends who called, how the room looked didn’t matter,
an out reaching hand of caring was what they could give.
Penned 19/03/2017
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2017
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