Written by: Irene Hammer-McLaughlin

Through report the world 
  came to you, corresponding
    through reclusion on
	terms your own.

Your first-rate grasp of
  third-hand knowledge,
    coupled with a dash of
	hesitancy, and you were THE
    "it" girl of the next era.

pure pre-existence.

Recognizing your own
  genius , even when no
    one  could see your face --
	Your mirror, yours alone.

You cocooned your body
  ( a white shroud )
    to preserve, what?
A voice. Some idea(l).

Wrapped in light, a utopia 
  constructed of hedges,
    afraid to step beyond your
      own garden, but more fearful
	still not to write your way