it is something that can be lost, Groove that is . . .
Groove and Muses are as constant as the moon, and so she is basking in her bewildering doldrums, casting out lines, sometimes marveling at the brilliance of the missing fish, and the deep water rises up and obscures the horizon, but she sees land in her dreams, and when she hits land, the words, you know, the Groove will return. As for the Muse, she will leave a line out always . . .