Some things are meant to fall to the ground <br />Each true to its season — leaves in fall <br />Rain in spring — and Howard’s clothes which line the hall <br />Between A-Wing and the Dining Hall and around <br />To the Lobby where he is often found <br />Without his shirt or pants, standing tall <br />Perfectly happy, without a stitch or care at all <br />In this world to which he is still unaccountably bound <br />By God who stole his wits but not his soul <br />And kept his aged body strong to walk <br />With child’s steps now wobbly now strong <br />In a walker while reciting word for word whole <br />Prayers and sacred liturgies, the holy talk <br />Of fiery angels who encircle God in sacred song.<br /><br />Lewis Eron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-h-r-now-resident-in-a-nursing-home-a-sonnet/
