She leaves her walker parked right by the white car door, wheels locked
so it does not wander off.  It gives her the support when she might
suddenly need it when she is all alone, a castoff.

Her home is small and all is in it's place, prim and proper.  She
would not have it any other way.  As she has gotten older and
given charity much, even her tea set and tray.

Her spouse had left her, wasn't his fault, his heart, simply got
tired, with no insurance, without family alone she faced fears,
could not keep the home, there were tears.

That was the not so distant past.

She had all she needed now, she was good at keeping neat
and clean, her clothes and a few belongings always within
reach, hung in place, nothing really new.

She slept little these days, noisy traffic driving by, even
rearranged, her bed was not as comfortable as she once
had.  Times had changed.

She started her day with a wash and a walk.  Brush her
white hair. There were the usual neighbours, who didn't
stop to talk to her, inexcusable!

Recent blunt reality.

Though she could not hide in plain sight,
parking her car in an empty parking lot,
every two hours she must move.

Her home a car, her closet a back seat,
the steering wheel a towel rack,
sleeping more upright helped
her breathing but not her
aging back.

Her possessions and food little
are in the trunk; one in a box
and the other on a chunk
of ice, she does not eat
much and pleasant
memories are
less and less.

Alas, make up takes time,
when the light is fine,
her friends don't
know, she does
not know if
she gets
calls or
letters,

Anymore
in these
declining
times.