Dusting
Thank you for these tiny
particles of ocean salt,
pearl-necklace viruses,
winged protozoans:
for the infinite,
intricate shapes
of submicroscopic
living things.
For algae spores
and fungus spores,
bonded by vital
mutual genetic cooperation,
spreading their
inseparable lives
from equator to pole.
My hand, my arm,
make sweeping circles.
Dust climbs the ladder of light.
For this infernal, endless chore,
for these eternal seeds of rain:
Thank you. For dust.
■
Thank you for these tiny
particles of ocean salt,
pearl-necklace viruses,
winged protozoans:
for the infinite,
intricate shapes
of submicroscopic
living things.
For algae spores
and fungus spores,
bonded by vital
mutual genetic cooperation,
spreading their
inseparable lives
from equator to pole.
My hand, my arm,
make sweeping circles.
Dust climbs the ladder of light.
For this infernal, endless chore,
for these eternal seeds of rain:
Thank you. For dust.
■
Hello Friends,
I like to view today’s 1994 poem by Marilyn Nelson as in conversation with another famous poem giving thanks to dust: “Dust of Snow” by Robert Frost. You’d be surprised at the number of poems written about a subject like dust — a couple other favorites are “How I Learned To Sweep” by Julia Alvarez and “Chalk-Dust” by Lillian Byrnes.
Love,
Ællen
I like to view today’s 1994 poem by Marilyn Nelson as in conversation with another famous poem giving thanks to dust: “Dust of Snow” by Robert Frost. You’d be surprised at the number of poems written about a subject like dust — a couple other favorites are “How I Learned To Sweep” by Julia Alvarez and “Chalk-Dust” by Lillian Byrnes.
Love,
Ællen