High Water

When the acqua alta in Venice is more than you bargained for, and you're me, you write a poem

Sometimes it was hard to know where the pavement ended and the canals began. Photo mine.

Cari amici,

I have set myself the enormous task of completely rewriting a novel in less than a month to meet a deadline that’s likely to lead nowhere—but if you don’t try, the answer is always no. So today I’m going to leave you with this, a poem inspired by a record-breaking acqua alta in Venice in 2019, and get back to my task of writing 5,000 words a day.

The poem is called “High Water,” and it’s up at the poetry site boats against the current. I’m very grateful to the editor there for giving it a home.

Here’s the link. I’d love it if you trotted over there for a look.

Alla prossima,

Cheryl

P.S. My book! Which you can buy here or on the usual sites. Another fab option is to ask your local library to stock it.

If you read it and like it, please tell your friends and/or leave a few lines of praise on any bookish site. You’ll make me over-the-moon happy. Baci!