Uneaten thoughts create
unexplained spaces of emptiness.
As day passes, a portion of
destiny is added to a legacy unfinished.
The elderly form short choppy sentences
as they remember experiences their not
sure actually happened.
Windows are bedecked with the last holiday;
a broken wreath minus a bow.
A light shines from under the door.
Footsteps and soft music stretch thin
iInto the hallway.
Outside there are lines of cars passing by.
Shadows on the walls search for safety.
Roger Singer 