The House Guest

Startled by a rap on the door scurrying to open it and discover who this uninvited guest might be I peer out on the skyward live oak gracefully bowing then rising; branch lying on the front porch, floating autumn leaves...no one Out back, bewildered yet impressed by toasty puffed marshmallow clouds high in a race westward as if shouting “Your guest is my friend!” I turned and beheld the disheveled mess this stranger had made and as I shut the doors my house guest was gone.