I'M Carpeting The Hall Now Poem by Patti Masterman

I'm carpeting the hall now,
Having finished the rest of the house
With my failed efforts at writing;
Over by the threshold
Are all the old love poems, lying face down-
They're sulky, and if you step down on them just right
They'll hit a high note, every time.

And near the main doorway,
Are my religious pieces;
Always looked to be in mourning, heads covered up
They're looking for evidences that they'll never find;
They might weep feebly, so just step over them
They're much more blind now, old and lame-
Careful, you'll catch your toe on them.

Here inside my room,
Are the ones I'm most proud of: catching my eye,
They sing arias to me, early in the mornings,
And lullabys, in late evening-
But they still sing only for me-
Because nobody else ever heard them before
And they never outgrew their cringing shyness.