THE BAD GUEST

THE BAD GUEST (REVISED)

Was I a bad guest

I ask myself in myriad dreams

The vague kind but with a clear message

Through the mists.

Did I use up heedlessly all the

Rose shaped little soaps

Or help myself to the bbq potato chips

Like a bear in Yellowstone Park

Like there was no tomorrow

And without saying please

I don’t remember it that way

But I felt ill at ease though

I came bearing gifts every day

Though perhaps in small packages

Emblems of my esteem

A maple leaf of red and green

Small little tokens of kaleidoscope blue

And woke from a really bad dream of you

Where the door was slammed against me

In a raging blizzard.

mary angela douglas 14 july 2024