Sunlight

A man of fifty-two sits with a cigarette.
One smolders in the ashtray
among four butts.
Puff, Inhale, Exhale

Hesitating, he rolls down the corridor.
One man with a walker loiters at the nurses’ station
Another shuffles into the TV room.
He turns a right corner.
Puff, Inhale, Exhale

A nurse stops him, another dose of pills
twelve to be exact.
Her cart squeaks; she goes on.
He sneers
Puff, Inhale, Exhale

Through a window, he sees a squirrel scamper up a tree.
The cigarette twitches in his hand.
He pushes the chair forward.
Large, glass, double doors swing out.
He ventures outside — stops
and puts out his cigarette.

This poem is a tribute to my late father-in-law.