The last thing she expected
was me bouncing in off the street
you strolling in from the airport
him roaring up on his mo-mo-motocycle
her descending from her gauzy attic
them - little - playing on the floor
the dogs jumping in from the greeny yard
the cats wandering in surprised by company.
The last thing she expected was all of us
moving to an unseen rhythm, answering
an unsung call to come home, make
a feast, turn on the music, dance in circles
around and around her until she grew dizzy
with song and wine and moving feet
and threw her arms around us all
and cried for plain old joy.