Nursing Home Haikus

A decorative
front door, the back rehabbed for
anything on wheels.

With each step, the right
foot finds the floor for the left
foot, which cannot feel.

When guests come he looks
up, then down for the open
place in his darkness.

It stops at each door:
an ice-cream truck with no bell,
just pills, a clipboard.

Right then, waving them
off, smiling, she was having
her last heart attack.

Are you going? When
are you going? When are you
going to come back?

Once this whole floor was
the ballroom of a mansion.
Think of the rooms cleared

away for dancing,
the gowns, the music that said
now, and only now.