Marguerite wanders
by the isolation room door
a nurse tells her to get away
I don't mind her being here
don't mind the company
when she is back, she says to me
through the thick window
"Don't worry. God loves you."
maybe she knows
this is just what I need to hear
years later
during her group home intake
I will witness her
setting her hair on fire
years after that
will see her dragging her belongings
across Public Square
I will not call to her
she has a rugged-looking guy
in tow, I feel she must at least
have some kind of protection
the nurse calls to her again
she turns and skitters off
down the dirt-tracked hallway
