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,
I do sympathize for people when I get stirred up
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