I recently ate at the restaurant where, eleven years ago, I wrote My Sheltered Heart. Although the poem will always come to mind when I am at this restaurant, this day was special. Prior to stopping there on October 4, 2005, during a long drive to Baltimore, I had received a phone call from the person who was now sitting next to me. During the phone call, he said that someone had just told him about a woman whom I had not seen for 28 years. For the next 100+ miles, my mind was fixed on a specific 1975 photograph of the woman; a photograph that resided in an old album sequestered to a storage closet shelf. …thus, as I sat in the restaurant on October 4, 2005, a poem was born.