Hark! We have heard tales sung of the great storm, And the raindrops that fell like cold, wet spears, how they smothered the unshining sun! There was Sally, sitter of stools, Batter of baseballs, brave in the outfield. The Warrior of Little League had fallen far! Slumped stool-sitter, and hater of sitting in stools, Wisher at the window, watching the whale-road deepen with water. A boy-child and her brother, I had before been bird-chaser, Bare-footed…