New Way to SingMy body was a speakeasy, a gin joint, a trash can.A place to stash junk foodsweep dust under, cover up detritus, let it all hang out.It turned on me, told me flat outit was through with this treatment.C Diff brought a bigger pain to think about.Gutted like a fish.Now I can say I got no guts.Survived a rub-up against death.Woke to mornings without sun.My inner self asked to leave, then changed her mind. I let her stay.She gave me back my song. Taughtme a new way to sing it.Carol A. Ste
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