the visitor

departing on the westbound train 

I remain noncommittal

so there's not much to unpack.

they’re old friends,

now on South University, first floor,

higher ceilings, and easier access to work,

as I've been informed with their invitation.

I’m on top of my game

rearranging the contents

of a temporary space

with an aptitude at making adjustments

to stabilize a shifting point of view.

geography took the measure of us,–– the years

punctuating the measure on their arrival at the depot.

her hair is tightly cropped, greying

in arcs behind her ears. he wears

a powder blue, open-collared oxford.

three days to the eastbound train.

dinner's at six in the small

dining room just off the kitchen.

a young, dry red is poured by her husband

with a sincere sense of hospitality, and the sound

of her voice is gracious, and lovely, still.

it's three of us at the table who are older,

three of us who have decades of stories to tell.

genuine contentment surrounds the table,

and surely they'll ask me to stay another day.