Living with cancer uncertainties

This is part of a poem I read long ago - a fragment of Fragment.

I think about it sometimes, particularly when I read the blogs of others who are snared far deeper in the same net.

Only, always,
I could but see them---against the lamplight--pass
Like coloured shadows, thinner than filmy glass,
Slight bubbles, fainter than the wave's faint light,
That broke to phosphorous out in the night,
Perishing things and strange ghosts--soon to die
To other ghosts--this one, or that, or I.