Cleaning Day

It’s the kind of

End of summer morning

When fall is kissing your forehead

Ever so gently

Nudging you into a soft sweater

Or keeping you


Under blankets;

Beach plans are reconsidered

School supplies have been purchased

The children watch cartoons

Entertain themselves;

I do laundry

And busy myself with organizing

My Virginia Woolf room

Dusting and vacuuming

And clearing away

The little spiders and webs

That have made homes in all the corners.

Once it’s done I can think again

And I can sit

And sip coffee

Read poetry

Lose myself in Whitman

In a certain page

I dog-eared long ago


Over life

And what it is we’re all here for.

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