There is a cave on Judevine Mountain, a secret place,

way back in the woods, high up on a hidden slope,

in a place no one ever goes. Only I know where it is.

No one else has ever been there. I go up there a lot

and sit around, make a little fire, boil some tea,

sometimes cook a little meal, but mostly what I do is

sit and wait, poke at the fire, add a twig or two

and wait and wait and stare, until suddenly

I know what to do.

This article appears in May 25-31, 2005.