I wrote this poem in high school for our annual literary newspaper. But, with three weeks until publication of my novel and four weeks until official launch, it describes the way I am feeling now. One two three four five six metal rungs
Dented in the middle
Five four three two only one more
Seated on the highest step
A small girl in pigtails,
Seated up there.
Gripping tightly curved, thin bars
She inches down the shiny slide.
Then, presto! Zing!