There is always a corner that <br />harbors dust. <br />No need to search; it will collect <br />and make itself a force <br />to reckon with. <br />Not slowly does it happen. <br />Dust rushes <br />to accumulate, <br />materialize, <br />like wispy smoke that holds <br />itself together, apart <br />from common air, <br />insisting.<br /><br />barbara foster schutz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-3/
