Who else but you could make ..a poem pirouette in place ..to its own music? …………………………..Such art ..can never simply happen ..without the sense of something ..else invoked—some mystery, ..some secret. ………………….. Call it a miracle ..that guides the hand and heart ..when pen and paper meet. Call it what mutes analysis ..or calculation. ………………………It answers ..to nothing but itself. …………………………….To be ..accepted and known, it needs ..no more than to be felt ..as love is felt and unforgotten.