8:00 A.M. Nursing Home Journies.
9:00 a.m. Nursing home Journies.
Pale blue eyes
watery with sentiment
parchment skin layered
by times creases.
Old veins like blue ink tell a tale
up the arms and the legs of the frail
no longer circulating outside this place
they are clots that society slowly
is dissolving out of sight and mind.
The sour stench of
old urine and baby powder
mingles with the crooked smiles as you pass
row after row of chairs wheeled
but going nowhere strapped to a rail.
Resigned they remain with other straps
around their waist...the waste of years .
I am sure that these ancient souls
locked in wheelchairs all day
in nursing homes and rest homes
are never really truly there.
They are out running through
the memories of childhood again,
that surround them clear as spring water,
laughing and giggling in a bubble
of time that holds them in a rainbow
of fragile but endearing moments
playing hide and seek with reality
till death releases them from
the sweetness of yesteryear's anesthesia
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