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There’s a pond beyond the hospital
All night long I watch the wind ripple
From the windows of the ICU
The warbled mirror of a waning moon

If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand
Everybody is flying in
I keep shooing away the chaplain

Flowers frame the walls of the hallway
I began to learn them all by name
Marigolds can often stand for death
The nurse suggested buying baby’s breath

If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand
Blink your eyes if you understand
Maybe we should call the chaplain

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