Red Socked Toes


Death moves

slowing in

a nursing home

creeping softly

with red

socked toes

jutting

out of opened

doors

Hunched over

in wheelchairs

waiting for

something

death could

be more exciting

than the actual wait

sitting here with Betty

and a nameless

old lady

I asked her

her name

her matted

pink gums

holding in

her smile.

I wrote this poem May 28, 2011 while I was visiting my mother in a nursing home. She has since passed away. I found a notebook titled “Light” and decided to share since it’s National Poetry Month.

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