Day Nine Poetry:
Ode to a Vacuum Cleaner
you wake up the whole home
in your attempt to make it clean
around the rooms you roam
because cleanliness is the American dream
the whirling and swirling of sounds
jar the ear of everyone far and near
cleaning day is found in each and every town
where the thought of chores make children weep in fear
the doorbell sounds, the company has arrived
your job is finally done for the moment
the thought that the home is dirty is so contrived
as you retire to the closet and become dormant
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Moment and dormant: Yay.
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