southern hospitality

I remember the time
I moved
into
a new neighborhood
and a woman showed up at the door
with a giant
pan of
tuna casserole.

you shouldn't have, I told
her.

welcome to the neighborhood,
she said
and smiled, straining
her neck into my house
to look around.

are you all alone, here,
she said in that southern
sort of gentile way.

a man all alone in this big
ole house? my oh my.
what a shame.

well, yeah, sort of, I told her,
trying to close the door.

just wanted to say howdy
new neighbor.

enjoy the casserole.
just stop by with the dish
when you're finished.
maybe have a slice of my
famous

blueberry pie.

I live right across the street
where you see that little
rocking chair
on my porch.

I like to sit out there at
night and watch the stars.