Voices from the (Household) Dust
These are the crumbs of our civilization,
Smudges of our day-to-day world—
Witnesses whisper from bookshelves,
Cling to electronic screens,
Peek from window blinds.
Someday we’ll clean them away—
Come take a tour before they’re gone:
Cup rings on tables circle our laughter,
Kiss remnants pucker Grandma’s photo glass,
Carpet dents shape repeated knees,
Bedsheets crumple slumber, sickness, love.
Counters wreathe garlands of mismeasured flour,
Petals remember a Valentine rose,
Tears spill everywhere—angry, sad, joyful;
Aromas waft—Sunday dinner, apple pie, bubble bath.
Before they are lost,
Listen to the voices from our dust—
We’ll whisper more tomorrow, and forever.
–Lisa Bolin Hawkins