I <br /> worked in this hospice <br /> once <br /> and when we took <br /> the dead <br /> through <br /> to <br /> the morgue <br /> we had to walk <br /> through <br /> the <br /> cancer wing <br /> where all <br /> were hanging on <br /> to their own thread of <br /> hope. <br /> <br /> <br /> we <br /> came through <br /> like a battle flag <br /> a clarion call <br /> like the truth <br /> like harsh reality <br /> like a common bond <br /> like fate <br /> much like <br /> an all embracing <br /> warm black envelope <br /> for a letter <br /> that no one <br /> wanted to read.<br /><br />r james sterzinger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hospice-for-robert-lowell/
