What do you see, hear, feel, with your body; what touches you, when you read poetry?  Where do you feel it?  Where do you find that feeling when you write within yourself?  Where are the spaces, or places in life that you've gone to seek solace?

 What I hear with my eyes,               

What I see with my ears,

Makes me feel like a vessel afloat,

 In a sea of pure amber glass.

The poem is internal, the feelings

Are thoughts, that have been

Trapped, not reflections, but parts

Of my whole.

I react as if the experience were

Mine; to close with my ears,

Shut in with eyes, and

Dance with my body.-daw

To be published in "Butterflies Will Come"

This is my solace.  Where is yours?