Tuesday, November 20, 2007



Wendi is nearly 90,
changeable like the weather.
Her two sisters and her brother,
are more helpless than she.

Wendi was sitting on the front porch
of the Good Sam Nursing Home,
with her feet propped up in the wheelchair,
a blanket covering her like a tent.

Wendi! What are you
doing out here?
Are you camping on this porch?

Dad blast you, Preacher!
You've got to get me out of here!
Call the ambulance!
Get me to the hospital!
I'm an old woman
and they are killing me here!

I got to get back home!
My cats need me!
My chickenhouse is there all alone,
and I'm here in this god-forsaken place!
Get me outta here!

Wendii, you can't live
by yourself anymore.
They take care of you here.
Patty works here,
and she sees about you.

Dadblast you!
I tell you I can't stay here!
I got a pain in my side and I'm dying!
Call 9-1-1! Call the sheriff!
Call Miriam!
Just get me out of here!

Usually the preacher can
talk to Wendi and settle her down.
But today she was in a foul mood
and filled with anger.
He shook his head and walked away.

It is another day.
Wendi is walking in the parkinglot,
holding to her wheelchair.

Preacher, hello!
How are you today?
It's so good to be out in this sunshine!
You see that woman working in her garden?
She gave me three cucumbers!
See,I wrapped them up in my blanket.
Ain't they beautiful!

She pushed her wheelchair
to the front porch.
She took the cucumbers out,
sniffed their aroma,
and cradled them like a baby.
Then she smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

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