outside your house

is where i stood at twilight
hesitant to approach
because the paint was old
and faded past any color
the path overgrown
with grasses and flowers
that would not be contained
no matter the energy applied
to keep them down

but the windows were all clean
they spoke of gentle care
of quiet preparation
and patient waiting
for company that would come
some, unexpectedly

a movement caught my eye
a flicker of white lace
as the porch light sprang to life
wind-chimes sang a poem of welcome
and i was at that moment
no more a stranger,
but a friend to be fed
for the first time at your table