Ode to a Dust Mote


Floating tiny flakes of skin;

insidious, ghostly, an infinity within;

Combined, dust upon dust without end

you infiltrate every crevice and crack!

With futile attempts to catch and send

your army forces stick and stack

and drive our enthusiastic dusting friends

on ever aggressive dusting attacks

as we spend  our money, millions a year,

on expensive and exotic dusting gear

in futile attempts to hold you back.

Author of many allergy sneezes

you puff unknowing into our nose

and attack with sniffles and wheezes

just adding to our dust-laden woes.

Breathing in untold millions of dust

starts a cascade to dust unseen

as trapped in gooey mucus must

make them claustrophobic and mean.

Our bodies do not like you, not one bit!

Moist or dry, brown or green,

our ever vigilant cilia filters

clump and clog you as “bugger-shit”.

On rare moments we cease the fight

to view your beauty, your free-floating form,

visible in unstirred filtered light;

unfettered, your graceful circular flight

temporarily stops our dusting storm.

And on a more serious note,

you remind us of the Biblical quote,

“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust”

as in death our bodies must

return to a simpler, easier form.

I am allergic to dust (or more likely, dust mites), so I have air filters in all the bedrooms.  But with four cats, four litter boxes and four people, dust is an enemy never conquered.  The only time I have real allergy issues is when I “dust”, and since I hate to dust  because I hate to sniffle and sneeze, it collects and coats every surface before I give up and remove it. Of course, removing it is really just a joke, all I am doing is swirling it around a bit and getting my immune system all riled up.  But it looks better, which is the goal of housekeeping, so I keep at it when my dust threshold is hit.  But there are times when it is achingly beautiful, and it was in contemplation of a moment of silent filtered light that inspired this poem.

Make a Forlorn Fairy Smile

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