Rochette

From her writhing eyes
a tear of reigned-in, trained-in pain
now slides;
it glides
across her wintry cheek,
and slips unseen onto Olympic ice.
It crystallizes
suddenly
the attention of a weary world
upon her skating, unabating
brilliance.
In bronzed resolve
her new-dead mother had ensured,
Joannie has endured!
Look!
She slides;
she glides;
her grief she hides.
She rides
above a rink of frozen pain,
and melts our hardened hearts with triumphant rain.
Thank you, Joannie dear.
Your tear dissolves our fear.