The gray dreariness of a long rainy day
Is o’ercome with anticipation of a new wave in play.
As I walk down the halls, past the patients in their beds
The floor turns to waves that I surf in my head.
The doctors, the nurses, the addicts may rage,
But to all I’m immune as I watch the river gauge.
At last morning comes, and from work I escape.
My heart overflows as I spy my board’s shape.
Away to the River, I scurry, I flit.
On my Lover’s curves, I find my respite,
Trading my burdens, my sorrows, my pain
For two hours of surfing alone in the rain.
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