Doctors Poem by Sara Teasdale
Doctors
Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
Confering at my head.
They speak in scientific tones,
Professional and low--
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.
To one so humble as myself
It should be matter for some pride
To have such noted fellows here,
Conferring at my side.
How sad it must have been for her during her sickly days, but although still found the passion to keep writting. Bonnie
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4/17/2024 11:31:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Even in her sick-bed, she keeps her humour and her poetic sense. She writes. Salute to her.