waiting for visitors

like birds
on a wire, they
line up
as you get off
the elevator.
silent and unsmiling
in wheel chairs,
abandoned souls
who have
out lived
friends
and enemies,
awaiting reluctant
relatives
bringing little
more
than tired hellos,
and boxes
of unwanted
candy. the world
does not
do the end
very well, the smell
of guilt
and regret
is everywhere.
hanging in the air
like a grey cloud.