The Guest Of Our House Poem by RIC BASTASA

when you arrive here
you sing for us, then you dance and then you
recite a poem
and we listen, we tap our feet, we like your song
we cry for the sadness of your poem
we are amazed till you left us

the same question is asked: when are you coming back?
will you sing for us again? will there be new dance steps to
please us? will the poem be sadder?

at any rate
nothing is changed.

it is the same rock in the middle of the road,
the same mud on all the sides

the dead bird hanging on the tree
has become an skeleton in our closets

nothing has changed
and we never expect any somehow.