Doubt blows through
a dust-devil of uncertainty
clouding my judgment
It’s hard to recognize
the truth in the storm
To believe the evidence
right in front of my face
One does not become
a contest finalist
if one cannot write
Still self-doubt rages on
_____________________________________
I missed the last Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub. But the given word—storm—has been swirling in my mind ever since. So, for Open Link Night, I’m putting off working on my memoir, which is a finalist in the Oregon Christian Writers contest, and writing a stormy Quadrille instead.