Tuesday, August 5, 2014


“I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor.
Do you know your next door neighbor?”- Mother Teresa

Red lights splashed into all of our back yards,
guessed it was the old guy with the nice pool,
but it was his wife, a loud lady I talked to once.
She suffered a heart attack and died. He’s been
alone for ten or twelve years now and for hours
he sits watching TV on the back porch, I’d hear
MASH, CNN, John Wayne westerns, war movies.

His pool always crystal clear, open Memorial Day,
closed on Labor Day, check the calendar and see
the trampoline-like green cover perfectly placed.
He moved slower, didn’t swim, watched more TV.
Had less pool parties with his family and last winter
a sign went up on his lawn, the house sold quick,
luckier than most who have been trying to leave.

Another neighbor says, “His kids got him to sell and
moved him to assisted living, on his first night there,
he got out of bed, tripped on the rug, broke his leg.
Doctors find he’s filled with cancer. Three weeks later
around Christmas, he’s gone. Dead. Jack was his name”.

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