Retirement Village
I heard the ambulance moaning
long before it stopped on Sunny Lane
to pick up Joe McCain, a fine gentleman
with a painful limp and a friendly grin.
It never brought him home again.
The week before, it came in the middle
of the night and stopped for Mae DeWitt,
an octogenarian with Alzheimer’s, bent on
wandering the village in the pouring rain.
It never brought her home again.
One early morning it came again.
I sensed it battering down the traces -
a frantic raven seeking sanctuary.
And then a long and dreary diminution;
and then a burst of indignation;
and then a roaring in my ears,
as just before the dawning light,
it spied the chosen destination and
landed by my window pane.
Alicia Patti
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/retirement-village/
