Vacuum in
hand,
I roll back
and forth
Over the
kitchen floor.
Dust gets
sucked up,
Some dirt,
A bit of a
brownie,
A stray
Cheerio.
Then I see
the fur,
Tumbleweeding
across the floor.
It goes
with the brownie and the Cheerio.
Up,
Up,
Up.
Each swipe
of the vacuum,
Finds a bit
more stray fur.
Soon,
I know,
There will
be none left.
It doesn’t matter,
I tell
myself.
As I
continue to move through the kitchen.
It doesn’t
matter,
It doesn’t
matter,
It doesn’t
matter.
Wiping away tears,
I know that’s
a lie I tell myself.
Who knew
fur meant so much?
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