We siblings gathered for a last minute
  living on borrowed time. The eight originals
  in various stages of health in a grand hotel.
  In the harbor of Baltimore where seagulls
  keep looking for the ocean and the affluent
  fear the poor. We don't carry cash anymore.
  Patty. Jeanie. BJ. Kevin. Eileen. Terry.
  Bridget. Noreen. I write this as a love letter
  to my siblings as our sun's going down and
  we pass the living on to the next generation.
  We share war stories and our afflictions.
  We laugh at our past and wonder at tomorrows.
  We set aside our spats and hold dear our love.