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Poet Commentaries

The Door Mat

Between the left and right wing, that is where my temple is.

Yes I know your causes.  I will point out that even nations when they fight know enough to pretend to obey the Geneva Convention.  Perhaps I will point out that nations when they fight are only saying they are defending what’s right …or left.  I will add finally that in any war there is collateral damage.

What follows is poetry.  You will have to work it out.  Hint.  You are human, at any one moment in time you could be either.  lol.  Your hand is on a little red button the same as our world leader’s hands are.

The Door Mat

the pile of shoes by the door
my winces and gasps
all unnoticed
he is always shod

always sure
or so very afraid
of unsure
and vulnerable.

or oblivious
that state of fearless

but it is demanded
in my temple
to be shoeless

“Where’s your sign”
“Why the rule”
“You offend me”
and many other
muddy footprints tracked.

It is strange.
I have watched him sweep
the smallest chaff
from his mud floor
and chase a gnat
out his door.

It is strange
there are rules
to make one literate
and able to read signs;
there are shoes
by the door.

It is strange
how he can track
the scent of vulnerable
spot an armour’s chink
spot the weakest link
and see the path
to singled out

It is strange
how he blinks
to protect his I

I wrote a sign
in winces and gasps
and shoes by my door.
In indelible ink
of head in hands,
nodding disbelief.
In startled eyes,
mouthed agapes
and lost invites.

He is illiterate.
He is still here
and in his shoes
are unwashed feet.
I sometimes am glad
he keeps them on.

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