The porch is almost new
But it has a warm, comfortable feel,
Like a favorite coat
Or a well-loved blanket,
So, to me, it’ll be the old porch.
I’m welcome here.
The sun set,
Dipping slowly beyond the trees
As we ate good food.
The dark brought a cool evening breeze
And increasing laughter
And a few moments of companionable silence.
There have been drinks
And shared memories
And the kind of stories friends share.
Candles in copper lanterns
Shed soft, golden light.
The women are beautiful and kind,
And occasionally raunchy
And strong in the way that only mothers can be.
The men are handsome and brave.
An island of candlelight on a porch in a sea of comfortable darkness
Shows everyone at their best,
(Sometimes their worst I suppose, depending on the person)
I like to think that best is truth.
For these folks,
On this porch,
On this night,
Seeing them at I do is seeing them as they are.
At least that’s what I believe.
That’s the magic of an old porch.