Flick me from your broom's end; Fling me on the air; Chase me with your silken cloth Round your room with care. Dig me from your corners; Mop my brow's cold wet; Rub me from your table tops; Word me with your fret. Dust I am and Master Of your storms and calms: I leap six feet under with You in my long arms! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEFT-HANDED POEM by JAMES GALVIN DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON VASHTI by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: HENRY BAKER, AT NEW YORK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOLES BORED IN A WORKBAG BY THE SCISSORS by MARIANNE MOORE NORTH WIND TO DUTIFUL BEAST MIDWAY BETWEEN DIAL & FOOT OF GARDEN CLOCK by MARIANNE MOORE |