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.
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