Hospital corners still in his nightmares.
Crisp white sheets folded with precision.
scent of sanitizer.
Single flower petal, under the table.
Card that says “I love you”, stranded on the top shelf of the closet.
He remembers the empty room, that was once so crowded with family and tears and prayers.

But now it is not empty.
Someone new.
No family.
No tears.
Torn coat.
Detox.
Hospital corners, now a respite from the cold rain.
A safe place for tonight.

And he doesn’t think to say another prayer.