Sweeping Corners You swept my soul clean digging into the corners with an old straw broom. splintered handle held in calloused, gentle fingers moving dust around. motes travel quickly swirling faeries in sunlight each a piece of me. “Dust Motes” by Stephen Andrews Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Like Loading...