Fresh Inspiration to Chop

I look outside the door to the winter day.

The snow falls upon the earth.  Heavy flakes

plummet to the ground in a dancing shower

that is a steady stream.

Dark is the sky as I look up

into the grayish blueish palette.

I await a yellow school bus

that is soon to drop off my girls.

In my hand I hold an orange book

titled:

“This Year You Write Your Novel.”

I think to myself, “This year?”

I have been writing one

for the last year and it hasn’t

come to completion yet.

I get writers block and simply stare

at it as I slowly begin to edit.

Chop.  Chop.  Chop.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

Delete.  Delete. Delete.

Add. Add. Add.

What one goes through

in the tricky deciphering

and fine tuning our craft.

What to keep and what words

end up on our chopping block.

My story and yours have

begun to be a menagery

of foods to chop up

and serve up fresh as the fallen snow.

And there you have it.

Clean white words.

Thank-you, Mother Nature!

Jennifer Jo Fay

Copyrighted December 9, 2011

Rewritten from a December 2007 poem