Dust Cloths

When there is despair
slipping, like a sock under
a heel, farther and farther
down until a lump line
presses into my foot,
perspective by my directive,
lifts pain out.
Success with no regrets
for not allowing
those turmoils to self level.
No more cowering in corners
and showering my face with tears.
My socks that slip,
make good dust cloths.

January 2021
M. Flannery

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