a man came in the door
to see a doctor about his breathing
his hands were wrinkled and tanned
i imagined them patting the head of a good dog
his wife wandered the house while he was here
confused
because he’s not there
she set the table for two
and then four and then ten
i took the man’s history, asked him what his allergies were
she took off the sheets from their bed
because she supposed
she left him there
the man coughed violently, i put oxygen under his nose
she cried
and moved the dresser in front of the window
the doctor wanted the man to stay
pneumonia had settled in his frail lungs
she hid in the closet
tasted her salty tears
held his scratchy flannel shirt to her cheek
the man smiled at me, patted my hand
he must go
he must go home to his wife
she is alone
she does not like to be alone
he took small steps to the door
he paused to cough
this i cannot stop
