Birthday Sixty-Eight

Hung to cure on the hooks
Of what if and if only
I might see my home
From here, might feel it,
The Rest Home, the West Home,
Where the sun is longing, the light longer
Each fine dusk. Might say,
"Take me, Goddess Entropy!
Pull me down to your nonmoving
Place, I'll wed you good."

View an interview between Joe Wrobel
and Hazel Stanley that served as
the inspiratation for this poem