Niceties

I’ve had fortune at my table.

Never stayed to have a bite.

Had the morning come to greet me

just to rob me come the night.

I’ve shook hands with opportunity,

watched it count what I had left.

It excused itself politely

while relieving me of it.

I’ve been early to disaster,

I’ve been late to better days.

Had the door held open for me

just to find it led away.

Still I tip my hat to trouble.

Call calamity by name.

A man ought mind his niceties

when everything’s aflame.

I’ve had hope come riding toward me

on a horse already lame.

Had salvation ask directions,

then depart the way it came.

I’ve seen mercy in the distance.

I’ve seen justice passing through.

Neither seemed to recognize me.

I was courteous to both.

So good evening to misfortune.

Much obliged for stopping in.

There’s a chair beside the fire.

You’ve been looking rather thin.

Help yourself to what is left here.

You have always done the same.

I would hate to seem inhospitable

after all these years of pain.

There’s a certain grace in losing

when there’s nothing left to save.

You can curse the hand that dealt it

or thank kindly and behave.

And should fortune ever find me,

I’ll receive her just as well.

Take my hat off at the doorway,

offer heaven up my chair.

For the world has shown me niceties,

in its own peculiar way.

It has always knocked before it entered.

Never once before it stayed.