Poetry

Two Poems

 

 

 

No Place Like

 

 

A nursing home? Hell, no! I’ll never 

go, my father says, damned waiting

 

room for death. But my mother says

she’s ready, she’s tired of endless chores,

 

the thieves, the cockroaches. Let me rest, 

please, she begs. He snaps back, you go

 

if you want. I’ll die here! – to the woman

married to him for sixty-two years, who never

 

takes a step without him, and he – near-blind,

refuses to feel his way around the house

 

but instead slams into walls

in broad daylight. We’re fine, they say,

 

stop worrying. I nod into the phone, but

I know that’s impossible. In their familiar

 

darkness they move like tortoises, worn

carapaces heavier than they can carry, step

 

painfully through rooms

that shudder with the passing

 

of truck and bus on the broadened

road below. I see their silvery tracks gleam

 

for a second in the moonlight or in the sweep

of garish headlights. Backs stiff, they watch

 

TV in the living room, listen for footsteps, ears

tuned to pick up the sound of my uneven

 

gait on the landing. Instincts honed

to hear the slightest stir above the constant

 

din, our not-so often arrivals at the turn

of the concrete stair, the thump

 

of luggage, trip of tired feet. But wary

always of strangers, drug

 

dealers at the door, the landlord’s

henchmen, the night’s given dangers,

 

their sleep is restless. Goodnight, I say,

sleep well, my darlings, I say,

 

as I imagine them turning out

the light, settling the sheets to cover

 

their bodies, mouths moving,

softly praying. Sending

 

blessings to each other, and to me –

across the oceans. How desperately

 

I pray that the heaviest knock

will never fall upon our doors.

 

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