The old man shared the same room with grandpa
in a nursing home close by.
Every time I visited grandpa,
he sat on his bed,
facing the window.
I never knew him,
never once wanted to disturb.
I knew his back view very well,
bald head,
olive skin,
a white tailored t-shirt,
tattooed arms.
That day I didn’t see him.
The bed was empty.
Grandpa said he passed in peace.
“A blind man looking out the window
who wanted me to know
this is not a depressing place.”
I gave grandpa a big hug
pretending I didn’t see his tears.
Flicker of Thoughts 