IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK

Deep Cleaning

A poem

Photo by mike welch on Unsplash

We fight to keep debris off feet
from pressing into our bare feet
what we tracked in from out,
seeking to leave what’s out
out where Life’s fete lets rest what’s left,
not in, where all seems off that’s left
unplaced in places made to live,
yet where wind-swept, rain-mopped come alive
outside, where we’ll lay in graves
long after sweeping away such grave
thoughts inside, lit by inside-light
brought to bear by Thales’ static light:
what’s read once the sweeping’s done
was written out before life’s done.