most noted notes

Letters penned in turquoise ink 
are best I think
Skill commanding
notwithstanding

In cordial red envelopes
they inspire hopes
Like Valentines
and lucky signs

And if we've written them sincere
or cavalier
Feel no remorse
for such discourse

last testament

My dearest sister, don't give in
Whichever way the cruel wind blows
I bear your heart as mine, within
My dearest sister, don't give in
Though consolation echoes thin
Whence thou goest, thy sister goes
My dearest sister, don't give in
Whichever way the cruel wind blows

"I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway."

grievance
like a sapphire
compressed, polished
hoarded like a wyrm's cache
malice

A Valentine

From: Me
To: False Hope

You
preclude
happy hymns
and joy elude. 
My poor paper heart,
so shoddily glued
with speculative promise
and notions quite misconstrued.
It is such a small, sad Valentine;
but another discarded billet doux.

Spring

 Spring

thaw, bloom

raining, running, changing

melted, slushy, chilly, muddy

creeping, transforming, unfolding 

burgeoned, fresh, fair

Vernal

waiting at a bus stop on an autumn morning.

"God is in everything." --Mercedes (The Count of Monte Cristo)

Before the sun has burned away the fog in the cold morning, the naked trees cast ethereal shadows as the sun rises behind them. The dawn paints a conflagration of blazing golds and violent lashes of purple across the pale daybreak...

My eyes water with epiphany. How can people be sleeping, I wonder, while all this beauty is occurring--even though, conversely, I sometimes wish I were one of them?

I felt blessed to witness this secret beauty. It reminded me of God.

know in words that which you have always known in thought

[There is a name written on my heart.]

_

I am a writer of lists. Little memorandums of groceries, movies, playlist tracks, lexicon, errands, or boys I have lent my heart to. Footnotes tacked to my door trail across my vision as I run to school each morning and the margins of my writing tablet are riddled with notations so cryptic even I won't be able to decipher them at the end of the day.

Detergent

Amelie

Vito's Ordination Song

Inori (prayer)

Drop off resume

It occurs to me that I should save these deciduous leaflets of thought, so I paste them together in a book of other extracts from the vicissitudes of my life.

Lists of: Often unfinished chores, verse excerpts, epistles secret and unsent, options post-graduation, reasons I love my sister, lost items, umbrages I've yet to forgive, scriptures that speak to me, tangohen (vocabulary).

Maybe when I look back at the close I'll find I've recollected something else entirely.

_

[And I've scratched it out so many times there is a tear now.]