Waiting for the words to come… Sometimes life delivers a punch that knocks you flat and it’s hard to get your feet under you and get back to the writing again. I don’t talk much about my personal life. Mainly because writing about that includes people close to me and I don’t want to violate their privacy. This was particularly true of my husband. I sometimes wrote poetry about him, but never firmly defined who the poems were about or that they were anything more than fictional. That seemed a good way to process what I needed to process and shield him. In February his condition took a downturn and…