barbara foster schutz - Being

There is always a corner that
harbors dust.
No need to search; it will collect
and make itself a force
to reckon with.
Not slowly does it happen.
Dust rushes
to accumulate,
materialize,
like wispy smoke that holds
itself together, apart
from common air,
insisting.

barbara foster schutz

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-3/