by John Ilotan
I wanted to mop the floors today
but the rain wouldn't stop
and this iron handled bucket
is too heavy to carry
so full of dirty water
that it spills over the sides
pooling and puddling
seeping insidiously through the cracks
in the floorboards of my soul
so dark and grey
just waiting for the sun
Posted on 06/14/2003
Copyright © 2020 John Ilotan
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Rommel Cruz on 06/14/03 at 02:06 PM|
yeah, it's really hard to clean one's soul. oftentimes, even when you have the mop at hand already, you just become so overwhelemed of the dirt that you have to clean up.
|Posted by Max Bouillet on 06/14/03 at 02:34 PM|
Vivid imagery... I could hear the water slopping about. Well crafted.
|Posted by Marjorie Anne Reagan on 09/30/03 at 04:43 AM|
Just waiting for the Sun
Speaks volumes. Nice Read John!