A poem's words are particles in flight br Dispersed as waves across my mental space br Interpreted by individual rite br I can but guess at both their pace and place. br To pin them down may sacrifice the drift br To let them fly may foil their depth of spike br Their fluid form provides a soothing gift br I mould them to my own capricious like. br But oft' I feel my path has run askew br As misalign is add to misalign br From idiosyncratic poet's view br Decision then to push on or resign. br But if I'm held in maze by poet's art br By doggedness I swear I'll reach it's heart.