Confession: I edit a lot. Even when I read poems from my published collection, Naked, I sometimes see things I would change today. Maybe I wouldn’t on another day.
I’ve worked on the following piece again and again. Here’s a bit of “Bethlehem’s hope”, which wants to make it into my next book:
a bird’s cry harmonizes piano melody
it comes from an open door
when David sings his blues
he pours out his soul
it sparkles like scotch in a tumbler
I’m an image that stands in sunshine
I’m the fresh smell of rain
I guard the place where the moon decides to make it’s turn
determine when ocean waves lose their pull
but, I’m in the way
© 18 December 2018
Cindy B. Stevens
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