Chet's Porch

I think 
it was a
break of drawn
moment
when in the distance
I heard voices
of every kind
speaking of wonder
and reality
all matter in between
some words 
crystal clear
while others 
wrapped in mystery
before I knew it
darkness approached 
but I returned
the next day
and approached
the porch again
this time a chair was bare
and no one seemed to care
when I sat
and made myself
at home
and daily I returned
others came and went
yet no matter
how early I arrived
I could never catch a glimpse
of the owner of the porch
but always there
his words
as though they were 
the nails 
the sawn and planed timber planks 
that is what
we call 
the porch.