The door hung crooked
on rusty, rickety hinges;
its half-coiled catch-spring
had seen better days;

its wiry old screen stretched
‘tween thin wooden slats,
served as air-conditioner
and the way in and out.

The “foyer” you entered was a porch
lined with boots and shoes,
where coats hung on J hooks
for everyday use.

Company entered here, too–
adults going on to the living room;
children in and out the screen door, then
joining adults for the supper meal.

It was acceptable to entertain
in the commons areas back then—
no formal rooms or dens to show off.
People came to visit; they came to see you.

Today, there are front-area sitting rooms
where guests are ushered; they’ll not linger.
Time is a commodity, in short supply,
so visits are limited, an agenda attached.

It’s kind of sad it’s come to this,
guests being entertained in these special rooms
instead of being welcomed
into the hearts of our homes.