Dance of Webs

Wet and stringy webs
that cling to our faces
as we dance.
No matter how fast
we clear them off,
more pile on.
Our maid skills will
never be enough
to remove them.
We continue our waltz.
We salsa through the webs
with our trusty Sawzall,
broom heads and dusters.
We can do this.
We can meringue well
enough to help our
children grow,
well enough to help
them know
that we love them...
and show them
how healthy love can be.
You and me.
We dance, our
Samba so steamy
that it melts the webs away.
Someday our kids
will be grown, and we?
We will grow old
and continue the rhythm
gifted to us by chance.
We will dance.