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Saving Sylvie

I was restored by the sight of her
my bustling nursing Sylvie with long smiles,
and I told her so.
She shook her head, still smiling.

I am the last patient in a ward
of ten; the others have been cured
and moved on, to families
and welcomes home.
I am the death head’s at the feast.
No wonder Sylvie looks so glum.
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COMMENTS
Phillip Sawatzky 31 March 2006
I wonder through these lines at who Sylvie is-an angel, perhaps, the angel of death? You have such a delicate touch. Phillip
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