A nursing home.
The meeting place was not ideal.
A fireplace was stationed right in the
Middle of the space, so some of
The people were hidden from view.
Also, it was in the lobby where people
Kept walking through, talking, too,
To each other or on their phones.
Even the maintenance staff with
Their mops and brooms pushed by,
Equipment falling onto the floor.
I wanted to stand up and protest.
"Don't you know that a church
Service is going on?"
But Pastor Bernie didn't seem
To be bothered.
He spoke loudly, proclaimed
The message boldly, and I tried
To play the piano with a non-
Working pedal the best I could.
Afterwards, I spoke to a gentleman
Who was sitting by himself.
When I asked his name he said, "Trouble."
We laughed.
It was really Tom.
"This is a nice place," I said.
"Yes," he replied,
"But it's not home."
When I saw his tears I
Scooted around his walker
And gave him a hug.
We shared stories about
Living on the farm, and how we
Both lost two spouses, and
How our second marriages
Were extra special because we
Knew the brevity of life.
He said, "We just have to make
The best of it," and as
I said goodby and walked
Out the door,
I saw Tom sitting there doing
His best, and I wished that
He could go home too.