Revision

One of the mysteries of marriage is watching
Phoebe revise. I’ve seen her take a thirty page draft

and just throw the whole thing out. All of it.
And start over. The ideas are all there and greatly

clarified. But the words she throws out.
What she keeps is the clarity of thought.

For my part, I stand in awe. She jokes
how revision starts with bloodshed.

_____

Filed under: John Samuel Tieman, Poetics, Prose