Ramona from Assisted Living
outside work, where the ringing bells
remind us of death with every tone;
how a small girl wandered, an archetype
hundreds who gather, hand in hand
for three hours walking the cold rows
long past sunset to find her.
while they slumber in wheelchairs,
tilt toward perpetual dusk
until a waiting hand finds them.
For the Birds
bright canaries and gray lovebirds nest,
their orange beaks pecking at straw and string,
My concerns fall from the glass, collapse to the floor
like heaps of empty husks and seed shells.
chirping their stories to residents, visitors, nurses,
anyone who pauses long enough for hello.
grandmas and grandpas. They behave
like the framed prints on the wall,
overcrowded and sad,
small eyes looking for something not found.
E. F. Schraeder's creative work has appeared in Haz Mat Review, Corvus Magazine, Bluepepper, Kicked Out, Whitechapel 13, and elsewhere.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Posted by Justin Lowe at 10:26 am