WHEN AT THE END OF THE DAY

When at the end of the day the darkness falls
and  lights  around this neighborhood begin
to shine from windows, I walk along the road
that joins the homes scattered around a circle
knowing the names of those whom I pass by
and hoping  that all is well within their walls.
Some of the houses here have recently
been left by friends no longer able to survive
the demands of a simple life — who require the help
of those  well trained in caring for the waning.
Some day, near or far I do not know,
they’ll be another walking  this path I take
who will note  the stillness in the place I’ve lived
and may have a touch of sadness in his heart
remembering the day of his welcome to my hearth.

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