I Have No Resolution

Going to attempt a second round of proofing / editing / revising my Quintet manuscript. At one point it was to be sent off to a contest at the beginning of the week— but circumstances "intervened" let's say. I still do not feel confident in the arrangement of the poems. Which of course is a major warning sign. If hesitancy exists, examine the nature behind the pause. And at this point I have no resolution. So the document sits on the other side of the room, on the floor, hidden under some file folders. But I hear it calling out, demanding attention. Just like the baby. The two of them have the same insistent call.


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