dirt has filled every corner
swept aside by many footsteps
going up and down, up and down,
wilted leaves fallen from unwatered plants,
clods of dried dirt, dust bunnies.
blue fiber cloth in hand she starts
at the top, methodically moving
left to right across the back edge,
sweeping the pile across the front
edge and down onto the next,
across the landing and down the
last eleven steps to the
ground floor where she finally
pauses to look up at the gleaming
stairs, then carefully brushing
the pile into a small dustpan,
almost tenderly depositing a part
of her life into the trash can.
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