välkomna till

you come when it is nearly dark

(I wonder if you are lost)

crunching, crushing up the path

with something in your hands

you scrape and knock and welcome me

singing the way they sing here

speaking in any language

(and I wonder how stupid I sound)

you welcome me and invite me

and I stutter, carefully, feebly

wishing wishing wishing very hard

for some eloquence

you leave the thing in my cold fingertips

with the edges of my mouth in a smile

having spoken stuttered sung

over roses in a white box