They looked like strangers
so we called them friends,
had them sit down, fed them
milk and blueberry bread,
no meat yet, not sure what
their religion. And they ate.
They called the bread muffins
and the little fruit inside
they called huckleberries
so we knew we had nothing to fear.

2.
She kept looking back
as she ran ahead,
made sure we were following
and we were, though she’d
stop sometimes so we slower
could come close to catching
up with her, then she’d run on
and we’d follow. We follow.
Every now and then
she gives us a breather
and then again run on, o
that look on her face
as she looks back over her
right shoulder and runs on.

3.
And so it’s never clear
if we are the guests or the hosts.
Food changes hands. People
run and stop. We go indoors,
we settle on sofas, a phone rings
and we’re off again, she looks back
to make sure we follow.
What would happen if we didn’t,
if we just stood still,
or sat there on the couch,
nibbling, parsing the shadows?

4.
I feel ashamed for even asking.
She is to be followed.
They are to be fed.
Somehow it coheres
and we are where we are
at any given moment home.
This is not wisdom,
this is fact. Now calculate
the distance between.
She’s looking back at us again,
I could almost swear she’s smiling.

12 September 2020