- The unknown
Ails me

Will his face dampen
With glistening grief
Or worse
Fill with rage
And contempt for me
Will I see hatred in his eyes

Not this man
Preacher of Godís word
Winner of souls
Barer of Grandfatherly love

Concentration for me is futile
I am not here
In this sterile classroom

I am standing beside him
He holding
My eight year old hand
We are watching the monkeys play
Ice cream dripping from my chin
And fingers

Now entwined with his
Kneeling before his wheelchair
Desperately trying to explain
Why he must now live
With strangers