Waiting In The Children's Hospital - Clarence Major
I reflect on this desperate note while waiting in the children's hospital. The desperate cry my son left cold as ice in his closed eyes after poison. Benches of blood. This is a wooden tragedy. Joyce & I walked home under the huge night thru a grand sweep and around midnight I scribble a letter to my sister, who is dying five minutes at a time: You are the flower of confusion coming up in the morning of my love and going tightly shut in the afternoon of anger. Anger & bitterness. I look forward to your resurrection....