Written by: Geoffery McHugh

Look at the Icicle. 
It forms- 
An ugly mass drooping from a cragged rock, the water
hardening before it has sufficient time to 

I've heard them called things of beauty by others, and
indeed I once thought of them as such.

But after today...

My father called me to tell 
me that my Nine Year old bother has lukemia.
I cried for hours.

Today I found out that he is going to be alright, though he 
will participate in outpatient treatment for three years. 
I cried again.

And as I drove home from Dornbecher's childrens hospital this afternoon, I 
saw the Icicles hanging from the rocks hidden in the shade.
I cried some more.
I love my brother Sean.