This is called a visitor by mary oliver, from her collection called dream work. My father, for example, who was young once and blue eyed, returns on the darkest of nights to the porch and knocks wildly at the door. And if i answer, i must be prepared for his waxy face, for his lower lip swollen with bitterness. I saw what love might have o had we loved in time. Oh my godt beu, spicy chicken that actually makes me grateful. Thanks for letting me know you. Sincerely.