A losing battle, and fight it in the dark
No better armed than Galen.
He closed her eyes
At dawn. He took the children to his house;
Prayed with them; dried their tears; and, while they slept,
Shed tears himself, remembering—a green hill,
A Rock against the sky.
He cared for them, as though they were his own.
Guettard, the founder of two worlds of thought,
Taught them their letters. “None can tell,” he said,