I cleaned his trash bin full of yogurt wraps.
He never said a word and fine by me,
Or so I thought, but once he spoke: he taps
My shoulder, saying, I cannot let things be.

His hands were shaking, fluttering in the air.
I called his daughter’s cell and he looked down,
As if he never meant to call, to dare
Disturb the peace. I realized he’d soiled his gown.

The daughter never answered. Call once more?
I asked and he said no, ashamed and relieved.
Excuses made (my throat, it’s just too sore)
To think that this was truly what he believed.

The clock in his bedroom stopped; I heard it crack.
The body trolley glided down its track.