A decorative
\nfront door, the back rehabbed for
\nanything on wheels.<\/p>\n
With each step, the right
\nfoot finds the floor for the left
\nfoot, which cannot feel.<\/p>\n
When guests come he looks
\nup, then down for the open
\nplace in his darkness.<\/p>\n
It stops at each door:
\nan ice-cream truck with no bell,
\njust pills, a clipboard.<\/p>\n
Right then, waving them
\noff, smiling, she was having
\nher last heart attack.<\/p>\n
Are you going? When
\nare you going? When are you
\ngoing to come back?<\/p>\n
Once this whole floor was
\nthe ballroom of a mansion.
\nThink of the rooms cleared<\/p>\n
away for dancing,
\nthe gowns, the music that said
\nnow, and only now.\n
<<\/span> My Mother’s Penmanship …<\/a><\/p> <\/div>\n<\/div>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n The Afterlife<\/a> ><\/span><\/p> <\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n 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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7698,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"builder_content":"\n