why write?

I have to write what I hear in my head, what I dream in my sleep, what my bones ache to express.

My poems tell stories of strength, love, regret, disobedience, loss, hope, redemption, and whatever whispers.

—Cindy B. Stevens

Books Available

My first collection of poetry, Naked, is available for $12.00 at http://mainstreetragbookstore.com/product/naked-cindy-stevens/

For local readers, books are also available at:

Purple Crow Books in Hillsborough, NC

The Regulator Bookshop in Durham, NC

09 November 2020

I shot my best friend


This poem might be hard to read in its entirety.  I chose certain pieces of it to share the gist of the plot.  Here are portions of “I shot my best friend”:


I exist in a nightmare

I’ve heard dreams are based on real events


must be true about nightmares, too, because

that 1967 Sunday morning streams through my head


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


1967 Sunday morning:

we’ve been in this deer stand since 4 a.m.




no deer, no luck

at nine-thirty, we climb down

walk to my truck

rifle barrels pointed down


I hear a snort a few yards ahead

left of the trail

I stop

shoulder my rifle

pivot the safety

my trip is a sneeze during a funeral prayer


a gunmetal sky watches

it’s horrified

I’m horrified

my hands, warm



sheriff declares an accident

I can’t name it

I won’t


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


© 18 August 2020

Cindy B. Stevens


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Photo credit:  niklas_hamann-x-PuIzBnDUA-unsplash

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