I Write Therefore I Live . . . Again

[From my new poetry Collection, Echoes of Dawn at Dusk]

Spent three nights this week
Living in 1987
Immersed in both joy and sorrow
Long suppressed

Writing a novel
Of fact made fiction
Relived a critical year
Writing of my former self

Three nights spent towards the end
At my keyboard
Not my bed
Until 8:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m.

Then two or three hours of sleep
And back to weaving again
A renewed tapestry
From frayed and broken threads

The heart remembers
What the mind would hide
Old wounds thought...