An ode to mold

Because it is growing old,

The green version on the window

I write an ode to mold.

The rain pours down outside our door, 
and we are trapped inside the stinky house once more
(the house where a puppy constantly pees on the floor).

Everywhere in the house the green and black colonies grow...
on the walls, on the ceilings and on the window.

But wait, there are more...
on the sheets, on the backpacks and on the yoga mat on the floor.

The laundry on the "drying rack" smells of mildew,
and the sheets and pillows are growing mold too.

Monsoons, typhoons and rice paddies that flood,
all add up to one enormous mess of mud.

The dog hates the rain as much as we do.
Her soft, white fur is just a mess too.

The black on the ceiling

Our rubber ponchos hang dripping by the door
waiting for us to venture out of the house once more.

If we sit too long in this damp, festering place,
I fear I too will grow mold on my face.