she is sitting 5 feet away in her wheelchair,
back to me as always
she says often,
“Oh well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
she tells someone, never me
she has no quality of life
but does nothing to make any changes
I try conversation, any conversation
but what do you say to the person who has given up?
I’m tired and fighting to keep my eyes open
and it doesn’t matter anyway,
like a cement foundation, she is set in her ways
her silhouette fades in and out
and will eventually be gone completely
leaving a trail of unhappiness
that none of us could ever understand
and these thoughts in my head,
this conversation I am having with myself
is unnecessarily in the past tense
I remember many years ago
playing golf on a small course in the Metroparks
I was no good and she, only slightly better
it was late summer, early morning
we were surrounded by trees
and a peaceful silence
tucked away in our own little cocoon
cradled in the womb of mother earth
neither of us said much
but we didn’t have to
and this is where I’d like to leave it
nothing more needs to be said
