Doctors Rounds Poem by shimon weinroth
Doctors Rounds
They make their rounds
Steeplechase tempo
Angels of know
Or so they believe
Measuring, writing, conversing
Among themselves.
Question the occupants
Hardly listening to replies
Of frightened eyes
Hanging on, each syllable
The storm of runaway stoics
Passes by
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5/3/2024 6:50:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
