If Walls Could Talk, by Christopher Kent

If walls could talk,

they’d hear a man

breathing all alone

as he stares longingly

out the window

watching a young robin

build her cozy nest

for a family quickly coming.

If walls could talk,

they’d hear the shuffle

of routine feet

assisting the man

from the chair to bed

and back again,

and the barrage of insults

issuing from a man

exhausted from sitting

for so long.

If walls could talk,

they’d hear an old man

fumble with his phone,

punching in the only

number he knows,

waiting and hoping

to hear her voice.

“Maybe tonight,”

they hear him whisper,

but they know the truth,

that number’s been

disconnected for three years

and it’s only the dementia

keeping the old man’s

love and drive alive

in this quiet nursing home.

If walls could talk,

they might say,

“I’m sorry

your robin’s flown away,

but it’s ok to let go