Life Is On the Way

Another day 

Rearranging the flat. 

It seems we’re never quite done,

Just as dust is ever-collecting 

Behind, on top, and within

The things we move. 

But the dust is flakes of us

And we will one day be done. 

Oh, how your ripening belly

Shines in the dusty sunlight. 

Yes, there is a purpose to all this moving,

Moreso now because of the nesting 

Which is the third trimester calling

On the mother to make the perfect space 

For the arrival of the child.  

And as we busy ourselves

Preparing for the thing 

We cannot possibly prepare for,

Dust is hard at work collecting 

In crevices and corners, 

On surfaces and doorknobs 

And life is on the way.