The long path home

a man came calling late one night
no hat, no coat
no car
down the long drive of my house
in the late hours
he knocked as no intruder would

I felt no fear
no trepidation
when glancing through
the window pane
I found him there

tis time I thought, tis time
no visitors have I this long winter had
alone beneath the bowers
making merry in the meager twilight
sipping strong drink
and eating of my stored summer harvests

the stars are out
the moon but a sliver
the air so clear it seems to overfill my eyes
and spill inside
cascading down my airways and through my breast
like jumping with wild abandon
as in youth
into the depths of a lake
the water swallows and embraces
and your legs swing and swing and find no bottom
the wild exuberance of being alive.

my family, friends and beloved pets are all asleep
only I remain awake
waiting for this caller
this man upon my stoop
unannounced, but not unexpected

tis time, I thought, tis time
I have learned to dance again
and sing
in words and movements all my own
which was all I ever wanted to do
so now
come in, come in
and bring the starlight with you

let me sing you my song and
dance a step or two
to share, to share
before we both
go out
amongst this glorious night
and walk the long path home

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