brick and mortar

First experiment with iambic pentameter (kinda sorta):

your brick and mortar shoes are on the floor

and they are waiting patient at the door

for feet a tornado had blown away

at least it's what we hope, we mope, we say

so there they sit, put out and left inside

but soaking, seeping wet of your unwanted tide

which drenched the fireplace and let the coals

dry in gasoline tears of unheard souls

your keys they cling and clang in that still lock

your arrival in the tick

the tick
the tick
the tock

of that old clock

when we suddenly

stop

and our ears are at the asbestos

and we can hear in steps, the shuffling

the muffled sound of your soft scuffling

down brick and mortar stairs, tired, clueless

but you're on memory lane, undesired, shoeless

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5nmls0/comment/dccx3yh

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5nn07t/comment/dccx9uj