I don’t know when I stopped asking –
thinking somehow,
somewhere, sometime
“why” would stop by
and whisper her secret knowing,
letting me see
the mystery
unwrapped, laid bare.
These days I simply sit and watch
as evening clouds
swirl gossamer
across the sky.
JDG
aholdingplace 
Joan, I’m really enjoying having these poems to look forward to. Helps me look forward to firing up the computer, which usually needs to be done anyway for less inspiring reasons. Perhaps the twirl has come back as a swirl? –the words “In air.” keep coming to me as an alternate final line –rhyme time again. Love, Dabney
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