Cleaning House

My friend laughs at the notion of the "one dust bunny" she says is in the one corner of my house when in answer to the question, "what are you doing?" I say, "cleaning my house."

I clean, sweep away

miniature cobwebs

dirt dragged in on

dog's paws and padded shoes

conscious of how it

accumulates slow 

without notice

until its time to wipe

it away with cloth

or tears

I clean the bedroom mirror

see my reflection

the earnest way I have

chosen to move my hands

in circles

over every inch

pay attention

to the spots that

get missed because

I am going too fast

I clean in ritual

praying to Clorox smell

self-cleaning oven

windex streaks

Murphy's oil on

wooden floors

my knees/back bent

fingernails split from too much

water without rubber gloves

I am spent from making

it shine, livable

until it needs water,

cleaner, elbow grease

again, until I can

see where the dirt

has accumulated

or start cleaning

whether I see

it or not.

© Valerie Bridgeman

January 26, 2013