The doormat

feet pound
and scrape
I gather dust
and debris
see stolen kisses
hear secrets, become
accumlator of waste
then flogged
sometimes scrubbed
frayed edges
more frayed and edgy
next day; the same
am meant to be
trampled upon
lying silently
always an outlier.

Today’s challenge is to write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms. Once you’ve read a few, you’ll see what I mean. Here’s her “Token Loss,” “Blue China Doorknob,” “Houdini,” and “Crustacean Island.”


P.S : The answer to yesterday’s riddle is tea.


63 thoughts on “The doormat

  1. The musicality and imagery and the truth of this
    “I gather dust
    and debris
    see stolen kisses
    hear secrets,”

    is outstanding. Can be applied to so many, not just doormats.

    Liked by 1 person

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