I can be pulled out from under you, Or greet you at the door, Come in wet and careless, And you'll hear about it for sure. What am I?

I arrive unseen, yet I’m hard to ignore, I trail soft memories you’ve felt before. I cling to napes and drift through a room, What am I, diffused and worn like a bloom?

I am the fabric friend of shoes and boots. Look for me inside.

Finger of stone Pointing up high Four sides not more A witness of time

you know. ................. .Boil them mash them stick them in a Stew