Thief

       by Gail Goepfert 

A thief crept into their apartment
in the senior living center
where they moved from a trailer
and before that the only home 
Miriam and Martin knew.

There had been many happy days
of contentment found in hard work
family and frugality.  After all, 
they had endured the Depression,
knew bitter came with sweet.

They may not have known much
about iphones or voicemail
tweets or twitters
but they knew how to do 
most everything that needed doing.

Then one day the thief came
stealing even the very air
Miriam needed to breathe
her lungs failing, her spirit
toughened by the unseen intruder.

She spoke for them
declared they didn’t need help
neither of them did—
they could help each other
they wouldn’t bother anyone.

Help came anyway. Concerned,
their children tried logic, reasoned
that Miriam and Martin as parents 
had protected them, and then found people 
to stay with them because they couldn’t be alone.

Martin seemed to fail after the thief came 
forgetful, wandering off, unaware of what 
was happening around him, there but not there.

Miriam showed the thief the door
but even then he listened from without
hand on the knob.