Poemdog

Dogs 2018

SHAFT OF LIGHT
(6/6/18)

a bright beam
of the sun
cuts diagonally
through
the blinds

into
an otherwise
dark room

traveling
millions of miles
to illuminate
the dust
in the air

the dust
on a table

the dust
on the floor

to reflect
from car
keys

to shine
on half
of the cover
on some poems
by Bukowski

to end
as an accusatory
finger
pointing at
a bare foot

attached
to someone
waiting
for sunset
before
venturing out

so that
the dust

is not so
apparent

on me