Good Old-Fashioned Hospitality

You open the front door,
and there he is.
Your new roommate.

That’s all well and good,
except you weren’t looking for a roommate.

He shuffles in,
exhausted from the journey,
throwing his backpack on the floor with a thud.

He curls up on your bed,
oily hair resting on your pillow.

You remember the Army cot in the corner,
the one you haven’t thought about in years.
Maybe he could sleep there?

He moves drowsily to the cot,
wrapping himself in a moth-eaten blanket

and falling right to sleep.
You watch him snooze awhile,
a peaceful tangle of blanket, beard, and hair.

You can hardly wait till he wakes up.
You wonder about his name, his hobbies.
Maybe you can surprise him with a housewarming gift.
Maybe pizza. 

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Greg Sevik teaches writing and literature in Upstate New York. His scholarly essays have appeared in such publications as The Emily Dickinson Journal and Style. His poetry and translations have been published in The Ekphrastic Review, Inventory, and other venues.