Feb. 3, 2013
Little dust particles going no where,
I used to believe they were fairies.
You can only see them certain times of day,
when the sun streaks through blinds
creating a dashed diagonal,
broken by furniture and walls,
beckoning cold feet and cat tails,
and fairies, it seems
to dance,
going no where,
in the broken beams
In night they are silenced,
save for a flashlight's harsh glare
I wonder if it kills them,
this fake lighted air
cat eyes stare fixed
on something unseen
an elf, a ghost, a monster, a microbe
dances eerily in darkness
no longer the friendly fellows of day,
click the switch,
turn them off
once more unseen
Little dust particles going no where,
I used to believe they were fairies.
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