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Gossamer

See how the dust collects so quickly.
I wiped the whole house yesterday,
but already there's a new film.
Sometimes when you weren't home,
I'd let it build up til it looked like snow
and how my fingers would dance in that blizzard,
gliding along the surface like a figure skater -
one loop, two loops, a final spin -
how satisfying it would be
to blow the powder, like watching
dandelion spread in the wind.
I'd let the spiders spin their webs, too -
delicate little threads woven so finely.
You never liked how their silk waved in the drafty air,
but I always like it when the snow
shimmered in their gossamer.




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