The nurses got in the habit of calling
the cute little old man in 323,
“Simon says”
“Simon says, I need some water
“Simon says, I need to sit on the toilet
“Simon says, my head hurts”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
One evening he buzzed the nurse’s station
and groaned into the intercom
I was sent to see what he wanted
“Simon,” I said
“Simon?” I asked
“Simon, do you need something?”
His mouth sagged on the side
of his face I could see
There was just enough light outside
to say it wasn’t yet dark
The eye on the other side of his face
was stuck open wider than usual,
riveted on the window
and the tree waving outside
I reached for the call button
to tell the crowd
still joking at the nurse’s station
that Simon had nothing left to say
Stood silent a moment out of respect
to give the old guy the last word