I feel the caress of my own fingerson my own neck as I place my collarand think pityinglyof the kind women I have known.

You slapped my faceOh but so gently I smiledAt the caress.

But we who are wisershut ourselves inon either handand no one knowswhether we think goodor evil.

I still have 17 pieces of shrapnel in my neck.

Sometimes I feel my arm is like a swan's neck - so weak.

I think we just get so mad when we feel that we have let a game slip through our fingers. We like to think of ourselves as a mentally tough team. Winning at Albany doesn't erase the feeling in our guts after the New Hampshire loss. Now we need to win again.