in the shuffle

there is no
getting lost
in the shuffle
at this point.
it is all a
shuffle now.
the patient holding
a metal staff
of life,
a plastic
bag, waving
like the flag
of surrender
at his shoulder,
the slip and slide
of slippered
feet
going towards
the ding
of an elevator
going down, no
one going up.
it's all down
from here, here
in the shuffle.