By Chris W. at Perby1@aol.com
Date: 13 July 2000
Dustbuster?
Something like particles of dust
drifting in and out
of a parceled ray of light:
For a brief, but slow-motion moment,
they float, shining like charged wire...
and quickly enough fall out
of their moment in the sun
to disappear in the air.
So to do the possibilities come and go,
passing by on the streets,
glancing briefly across the dance floor.
And such missed opportunities
display themselves briefly
in my attention, until I miss my chance
and lose them in the shadows.
And I sit and wonder where,
to where has my romance retreated?
No amount of ingratiating charm and wit
will do the trick unless
I try my hand.
But, I've forgotten the rules,
and I never was very good at cards
to begin with.
And so I sit at the gaming table,
dust, illuminated, falling about
and settling on my cards
which lay face down.
I suppose that one must be
a gambling man in order to win the pot...
or a dustbuster.
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