Mean Streets- Up One Flight

Dead flowers by the window
Full ashtray on the floor
One chair at the table
Empty spaces on the wall

Sepia tone existence
Nicotine tinged patina of dust
Blank face staring out
Collected remnants, memories call

Slow deliberate footsteps
Moving down the hall
Voices telescoping echo
Tenuous connection, binding all

Rummaging through the closet
Digging in the wreckage
For a dimly remembered box...
Deadened explosion, reverberating fall

Ambulance parked curbside
Heavy feet on the stairwell
Bag on a stretcher
Don't remember him being that tall