I watched dawn rise over Hampstead
there were drip bags gently swaying
from the force of the electric fan.
Molly was still groaning:
"God fathers, God help us!"
I had a cup of warm milk in my hand
standing by the huge windows
watching the sun come up.
Behind the curtain that separated two hospital beds
Jeanette was sleeping and snoring.
I looked out over Hampstead
cocooned in the knowledge of my solitude
of complete anonymity
on the third floor, bed 9;
while the first rays weakly did not dazzle these Hampstead streets
spread out far below.