My Friend Has Moved to Assisted Living

I found her sitting for the last time

in that comfortable chair

on her beloved front porch

where each day for who knows how long

she has sat

observed the neighborhood

waved at friends

entertained guests

and enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells

of the place her home has occupied these fifty years.

“I don’t have a very good attitude,” she said,

as my heart filled with grief

and my mind’s eye saw the view

from her new “place”—tree-less commercial construction everywhere.

How can we not become attached

to place and things and people

since our nature embraces beauty in all?

How can we not meld into our environment

in almost indivisibility?

How can God’s Spirit compensate when

our oneness with creation is torn in two?

Oh, Lord, have compassion!

Ann Glover O’Dell

2 July 2018

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