mama’s dirt floors
were always clean
mama was like dust,
she settled on everything,
at dawn’s first light
mama could be seen.
light and easy
she floated on air,
like tiny specks
mama was everywhere.
things we couldn’t see,
like behind the old clock,
mama was there.
even when something
i thought i knew –
couldn’t hide,
mama was there too.
mama never worked with no haste,
like bread, and trees,
mama produced no waste.
by K. Osei