I posted the first completed version of “The Rites of the Living” earlier. And I’m a compulsive reviser. Poems leave the pencil of fall on the keyboard curtain and then I immediately start playing with them. They grow in the sunlight of my imagination, sometimes getting horribly tangled and messy with arrows going here, scratches … More The joy of revising a poem – “The Rites of the Living” again and again