The Bad Guest (Revised) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

Was I a bad guest
I ask myself in myriad dreams
The vague kind but with a clear message
Through the mists
Did I use up heedlessly all the rose shaped little soaps
Or help myself to the bbq potato chips like a bear in
Yellowstone park like there was no tomorrow
And without saying please
I don't remember it that way
But I felt ill at ease though
I came bearing gifts every day
Though perhaps in small packages
emblems of my esteem
a maple leaf of red and green
Small little tokens of kaleidoscope blue
And woke from a really bad dream of you
Where the door was slammed against me
In a raging blizzard.
mary angela douglas 14 july 2024