I’ll Stop by Tomorrow

I’ll Stop by Tomorrow

(“I do not deserve to have you come into my house. Just give the order, and my servant will get well.” Matthew 8:8b)

There were no shadows in the house,
the shutters were closed and the drapes pulled against the sun.
I tried to divide my attempts to be seen from
my instincts to hide.
Slowly the scene shifted as the sun found the
cracks in my defenses.

I meant to mention, I’d like to sit alone on the porch,
wave at the children on their bikes and sit with men
of my age
thinking out loud about our past and painting the future
something brighter than gray. We all admitted it was easy
to embrace our halcyon days when we thought life could be
lived in layers we never completed. We lived from
playhouses and swings to pens and musical things we
hoped would help name us forever.
We pretended there would be reunions where we
remembered every spiral adventure and made plans
to get together only for time to steal our best ideas.

But now in the epicenter of my life I’m too shy to invite
new faces to my porch. And that leaves me friendless in space.
Locked away, my heart waits for the night lights to take over,
and wonder what I would say if I ever came out under the stars.

Exactly how long I’ve been this way, probably just long enough
to notice the damage. But I’ve been invited to the
grand opening of a friendly space but slept through it.
I’ll stop by tomorrow.