In the Night Kitchen (With Broom)
I sweep the kitchen floor nights,
light as dim as brain, and think
in the quiet swish
how lucky that it’s just detritus
(sweep sweep)
I rearrange,
the letters like me, myself–anyone–
swept so easily in the big
back-and-forth
into weeps weeps weeps,
wishes dust-jumbled–
how wonderful
to be just
sweeping–
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Here’s a one-day belated Friday Flash 55 posted for the G-Man. Tell him it got lost in the mail. I am also linking this with dVerse Poets Pub Poetics prompt posted by Shanyn; the prompt deals with using a familiar phrase. I’m not sure this is quite right for the prompt, but in my case, the phrase would be the title derived from the wonderful Maurice Sendak.
ManicDDaily 
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