September 17, 2015

A Life of Their Own

We ended up here,
after working forty years,
lucky, we were told
to find such a haven
for the old.
Right away, we heard
the palpable silence
of empty rooms,
where we're alone
most of the time,
deep quiet
flowing around us, 
like water
rounding off stones
in a forgotten stream.
We hear owls
late at night,
sounding off softly
in our dreams.
We keep our appointments
in the morning,
but stay indoors
through afternoons,
watching birds bathe,
so skittish
they don't stay long.
A neighbor says
they're spirits of those
who were here before,
trying to help us
pass the time quickly,
though night and day,
they all seem to have
a life of their own.