And he spoke with a smile-

It was his universal greeting-

The picket fence to his suburban

Dwelling-

The fresh layer of paint coating the

Tidy exterior-

A place where the grass looks just

As green as the other side-

And he spoke with that smile-

No words-

And embraced with that wave-

No touch-

All from the front porch-

If you were to visit, you would be

Greeted there-

Right on the stoop-

Rain or shine-

If you were to visit, you may or

May not be invited in-

No offense, of course-

Just a matter of formality-

For as cozy as it looks,

Entry is generally refused-

Few have seen the interior-

Few have caught a glimpse

Beyond the windows-

But most are content with the

Aroma of the grass,

The sight of the trees,

And the warmth of the greeting-

They passed kindly,

And he spoke with a smile-

His usual greeting,

And greeted them at the porch-

A place where the grass looks

Just as green as the other side*