From a Seat at the Cliffs of Moher

As I'm improving I look around me And see too many familiar faces Who aren't And moving ever closer To the edge. I wince to see them, Every movement for some, Every word an effort And not without pain. The Cliffs of Moher here Without the scenery, On the Oncology Day Ward On Dublin's Northside. I want to gently shout out And warn them, "Get back, please." Too close. Too close. On some of their faces Faraway distant looks - Thinking what? And not watching their step. I want to get them well again, And back from the edge, Where it is too easy To lose your footing And fall.