Our Host

For Phyllis

When our host offered bone broth to one of the guests 
We laughed—not at her—but 
Because the gesture, under those circumstances,
Went beyond what any of us 
Would have remotely considered— 
A “who does that?” kind of wonderment. 

When our host drove like a bat-out-of-hell, 
There was some criticism from the back seat,
Only because they were playing checkers, while
Our host maneuvered for checkmate. 
(And, by the way, we made the reservation on time.) 

When our host invited us to stay,
It was a five-star experience—even 
The Downton Abbey domestic crew would be impressed, 
Such loving attention to everything. 

When our host was angry she could drop 
F-words like the firebombing of Dresden, but
She could also hug like a bonfire, melting
The cold night with that unmatchable embrace. 

When our host was fully herself,
We marveled at this delightful 
Paradox of a woman—
This elegant jaguar—tearing into intruders, 
Nurturing her beloveds.