Poems

Michael Haig: ‘The Hospital System’

The Hospital System Sitting huddled in her chair, Hair a bird’s nest mess, No one would spare her a charitable thought. So the aged and infirm Are shuffled through The hospital system Into the waiting arms of death. Already she seems near death’s door. She’s wheeled into the room Where the young nubile nurse Speaks firmly: “We’re going to scan your head— See if there’s something wrong in there.” But then the nurse Asks her what her name is. “Hannah,” she says, And the name conjures up A life and love From the cradle to the grave. “Hannah” redeemed the…

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