Yesterday, having "Night Terrors" published at everydaypoets.com felt good, and yet worrisome. Despite all the encouraging comments from so many friends and family, I feel that there is something missing in that poem.
My husband and my kids, being delightfully and usually gently honest, said, "that's the end? It sounds like there should be a closing line."
Their words resonated with me, and I turned them over throughout the day, and this morning when I woke up.
So here's a shot at another, last stanza for "Night Terrors"
"Nearly sixty years later,
the night terrors still come
but he has found a shield.
He wakes up and
breathes in hope."
There isn't much there yet, but if I add that to the whole poem, and work with the wording more, I might have a poem I could be really proud of without any remorse or regret.
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