Dusty Corners

In sight there are no daffodils
Neither are there dollar bills
All I wake up to is the clanging of the doorbell
 

The saviour of these times announcing her arrival
In her attempt to make my living space,
Cluttered with tables, chairs and ugly bedsheets,
Warmer for her than for me

Cobwebs and dusty corners
Is the state of the corridor and my mind
Nothing can clear it
Not even the swish of the broom
But, she doesn't realise it and neither do I