The Visitor

The Visitor

(“Be devoted to each other with mutual affection. Excel at showing respect for each other.” Romans 12:20)

I like the way you glided in under the radar.
You came in peace.
I came outside.
I was grumpy.
You were friendly.

You looked for answers and accepted my
question marks.
All they wanted were receipts to prove my
intentions.
My lethargy was the power of inertia
that held me in pieces on the floor.

My wings were weary; I had flown well
into the night.
I put that candle in the window hoping
that you would see
the fainting flame that called for something
deeper than miserly friendship.

You asked no questions,
you waited for me to talk.
I had run on sentences and nothing really to say.

Did you bring anyone with you or did you
travel alone?
I have been a solitary one ever since
I shared my opinion
once over the limit.

Did you come because the wick was fading;
did you bring a notebook to take notes like a
beat cop might do?
But I see your hands are empty and there is
soup on the stove. Can I serve us a little bowl even
though conversation is limited to weather and sweaters
I haven’t worn in a year?

But you made the effort so perhaps I should offer
something more than broth in a spoon. If you want the
truth,
you’ll need to stay awhile. I’ve uncovered
passages below myself I never knew existed.
I am not the same man you knew
55 years ago.