Greetings

 

A van and a coupe

and even a bicycle

parking on the sidestreet

my eyes spinning like a groundless bicycle

 

I hear the first knock

and open the door

checking my apron

as my rather large foot, stumbles against the door

 

A smile and hug

and into my hand

a slimline bottle of Trius riesling

I give her a hand

 

in a matter of minutes

two more arrived

some with bowed offerings

’tis the season, it’s arrived

 

the last one is late, but only by five

apologetic, but I console

the invite is for five

but I’m not serving till five-forty-five; consoled