I’m editing a poem that I began two months ago. It hasn’t collected dust like some of the others, for it is too new, fresh, ready to greet me with some familiarity. Perhaps I’ll only work with it for an hour or two, after all, it is the last Friday of summer for me.
If I play nice with this piece, it will mold into something that will never collect dust, rewarding me with the ultimate joy of readiness so I can send it off electronically into the great yonder waiting religiously by my computer for an acceptance notice. (Was that TMI? or a run-on sentence? both??)
I don’t think my former writing teacher reads my blog…so I’m going for another faux pas, I believe the cliché that I taste here is “…nothing ventured, nothing gained…” (or lost in space).