No Room

The bathrobed inn-keeper’s voice

     breaks with

     age or

     awareness

          “There is no room

               at this inn.”

     As they turn

     wearied

     and make their way    

     off-stage

          he, watching them go,

          remembers

               and calling says

          “You can use the stable

               if you want.”

     They want.

          And there in the

          splendor of an empty

          stable, their son is born.

History corrects –

     no inns

     no innkeeper

          They were staying

          in an ancestral home

          crowded, perhaps, by

          taxpayers, like them.

But still

     no room

     no place

          for their son

          to be born.

Except a deserted

     back cave seasonally    

     used by the animals.

Not much different

     these days.

          still crowded out

          still no room

               in.