The Visit Beached in his lean-back chair He sits reclin ed and staring into what I cannot reach . An introvert at soul , h e comes alive W hen younger spirits enter , sit A ttendant after banter in the circle Discovering their own lives inside His gift of weaving wings from spiderwebs Memories of dialogs gone by Characters like sibling stars Intermingling until A laugh erupts and bubbles from the belly up U ntil it catches fire a round the circle Fills and lifts o ff high Into eternal elements. Inspired by Mary Lou Kowalski's little book of poems and commentary entitled Old Monk, this is the first (and only, so far) in my hoped-for collection: Old Married.