The Dusty Soul

Just when I think I’ve got it all,
There’s more —
drifting under the bed,
caught on chair legs,
observed in sunlight
coming through a window.
It’s like the things I do that I regret,
but catch myself doing over and over again.
It’s never finished.
I hold myself to a fair standard
of housekeeping
and mindfulness of what I say and do
but I still have a dusty soul.
There’s always a wispy bit
clinging somewhere,
like the way I hold back warmth,
ignore the help that’s needed,
become defensive,
over-react to something said.
But I am grateful that
I have eyes to see and, sometimes,
enough courage to get out the vacuum
again and again.

by Barbara Wolf