Dusts

she is a woman fond of cleaning
dust and dirt and
almost everything that
makes this house dirty

or herself, her hands
her clothes and the
furniture that she keeps
on dusting
almost everyday

she slides her fingers
on the table and screens
the surface for dusts
and she thinks
this world must
be free
from dusts

she keeps dusting and dusting
and tonight
she sleeps
deep into
a slumber where
she does not wake up
anymore

she turns to dust
and the wind blows her away at last

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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