- 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