New Geography Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

I lay the strip of rain-rug
over the first few feet of
prettier woven floor art
by the front door...
there aren't the eight paws
that would've brought in
wet leaves and other autumnal effluvia from the walkway...just my two, and I usually remember to scrape off some of the stuff on the mat outside...
a foolish act, a habit, an always-done-it thing...
so quiet here..no claw-clicks....
I rub my head with the towels...still on their hooks...yes, I've washed them, but I like seeing them there...
... I have managed to give those cumbersome slickers away...some other prancers are loping sideways in them today...imperfect design, covering perfect love.... now I'm laughing...hear me?