“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