Starting into space,  seeing dots of particles

Clear the budding mess with strokes of cane brooms

Side by side flaked with dusty browns

Watch the swaying stick of no rhythm

Moving in distance from thoughts to thoughts

Changing courses as dusty Brown moves

With the music, playing blues

In a Brownian motion of light effect

Be free dusty Brown

No escape is crucial

For as the ground is swept

Nevertheless wet

As the air is also vacuumed, dusty Brown.