In the elevator
without provocation
a man began
to recite
all of Rumi’s
The Guest House
breathless
and done
by when we reached
the top of the hospital
every morning
a new arrival
a task to stay
as steely
as the stainless
doors the same
face presented
to every floor–
closed.
Some momentary
awareness comes
the body also
a form of conveyance
and pain its sharpest tone
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Whoa. Great poem. Glad I stopped by.
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How? How can you write with such ease? Great work.
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Wow! Interesting to trace the elevator’s path upward while following the words’ descent.
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