Creeping Cautiously Toward an End

Mostly this looks like any other day. I'm still on the porch, but added fleece to my wardrobe. I meddle with a poem I typed, crossing out words and adding some new ones that seem clearer. I draw lines to try phrases in new places. I make big slashes through stanzas, then type the changes on my computer.

But once in a while I get the rush of feeling like I'm a downward slope. I'm sliding toward the end of a revision I'll show to my husband and send to my writing group in the next few days. I'v...