Today dawned brighter than yesterday,
And promise followed close behind.
Wondrously, I gaze upon the fresh-fallen snow,
And ponder what I’ll do today.

Last night I was awake and thinking,
Feeling guilty for being one so blessed,
And worrying about those who are in my care,
As I grasp an understanding of what it is they expect.

They are dying, I know,
And in some cases they are dying alone.
For a few I’m the only person that they’ll see today,
The guy charged with bringing them hope.

This thing called Death is personal,
And a demanding companion is she.
She rarely lives up to what we expect,
And she squanders not her impatience,
All that easily.

Sometimes she introduces me,
And others, you wouldn’t know that I was in the room.
But I always know when she’s here-about,
Pedaling her special brand of gloom.

I can see it in their eyes,
It’s their detachment I suppose,
They are only sort of in the conversation,
For when Death draws nigh, they know.

“The treatment will work”, I tell them,
As they smile and gently nod their heads.
I promise I’ll stay by your side”,
But it’s Death who they are listening to instead.

So, if you are looking for a fool,
It’s me,
And a fool I will probably stay,
But with such a formidable foe as Death,
You need somebody who is trying to save the day.

“So I offer you hope,
And I have plenty of it in my bag,
And together we’ll fight off the Big Bad Wolf,
And Death; she’s nothing but a bitter old hag”.