Drenched in heavy morning rain
Like an arctic soaking, to the vein;
I just sat there stunned and wordless,
by the results of endless tests.

Only do I seek the scoffer's sympathy;
my litanies dot the bottom of this timpani.
No restaurant on high street offers...
Whoa! I found where my sanity rests:

A very comforting hand takes mine,
The other hand, by her child as well.
I draw dry ice sculptures in my mind,
While a hawk’s screech rings overhead.





_✒