Tuesday

They came on a Tuesday
making the house shake when
they landed the ship.
I watched through the window.
It was almost like the movies,
but not quite.
No smoke, dim floodlights.
They moved just like us 
they were us
just with no hair, and big hands
held like saucepans. 
Pressing my ear to the clammy window, 
their voices were soft, well-spoken 
saying something about 
how agreeable the soil was.
I wanted to join in.
Looking up at me they swayed 
from side to side, raising one saucepan hand 
to the sky.
They were waving. 
It was only polite to wave back.