The dust indicts me silently;
It makes itself at home.
The clutter comes to get my peace
And add it to its own.
The wooden floors aren’t vacuumed yet;
They torment my bare feet.
The laundry sends a ransom note –
It’s kidnapped all our sheets!
But…
The rushing river beckons me,
The highway calls my name,
My calendar sings sweet, sweet songs,
So off I go, again.
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