I wrote a novel, years ago
Then put it safe away,
To take a little break from it,
Then edit it, someday.
But life got going here and there
And there and here again.
And so it sat, upon my shelf
An old, forgotten friend.
I question reading words I wrote
Some fourteen years ago.
Should I revise it as I planned,
Or shred and let it go?
Copyright 2009 Penny L Kjelgaard