home visit

she travels light.
her bag, her tools of the trade
with her.
everyone is sick
to some degree. she listens
to their hearts.
takes their pulse,
examines ears and eyes.
takes notes.
she does what she can in
the chaos
of the deaf.
televisions turned to loud,
the arguments
unheard.
she does what she can
while there, then goes to the porch
to smell the ocean,
to listen to the gulls
sweep by.
to inhale the memories
of aging air.