I often need a rainy day

to catch up on my depression,

A raven on my window sill

And a book of lyric poetry

Open to the page

Where the center cannot hold,

Where the raineth drop

And the moppeth mop

Till that good night

Puts me gently on the road

To an April never so cruel

As the women I’ve loved;

Where fences make good firewood

And Ophelia wears a smile that says,

“Me, too.”