Poem in a Doorway
This poem woke up in a doorway this morning;
it had little in the way of a plan,
so it just sat there yawning;
until a passing poetry critic
hurled some abuse – non analytic –
along the lines of: ‘You smell!’
and not ‘All is well
that ends well.’
as a man once said;
I remember that
as I am not stupid,
though I may whiff a bit.
A kindly word
in deed
is what I need;
but, I am either invisible
or derisible.
This poem woke up in a doorway
this morning.
