Finished

Finished

Finished, this day.

All its cares
—swept away.

The thoughts that no longer matter.
The feelings that keep turning
themselves over & over

Finished.

Dust clouds will come again
and a simple whisk of
a brush
AND

Gone.

If not, find the rhythm of the silent
broom swaying left then right,
and again.

Hook the broom
at day’s end.

Finished…well done.