Monday, March 16, 2015

I Want Her View

I heard about an old lady 
living lonely at a care home 
visited by a dutiful man 
fulfilling a friendly obligation.

To pass time and cover 
the dementia causing 
conversational decline -- 
he invited her to walk
down the hall, a dangerous 
invitation. It could be an emotional
gauntlet. Wheelchairs and 
drool, wet diapers and vacant 
eyes. Tears. Distress ricocheting
off both walls. Silent mouths twisted,
pleading to leave, longing for home. 

She lit the way, entranced 
every few steps
by the fresh view. 
Each time she'd stop and shine 
up at him and say, 
"Oh, so this is where we are!"