My Little Broken Heart

My Little Broken Heart

you say

my little broken heart

is arresting

equal parts

precise & reckless

curved w/ incentive

to accompany

figurative angels

without a map

home

you say

if I surrender

examine carefully

questions & answers

symmetrical lines

my little broken heart

will be the weight & measure

of a sweet dream

of a quiet prayer

but

I am always ruined

always untrusted

I am not afraid 

to be wishful 

my little broken heart

knows

I am a good writer

& I see things 

instead of feeling them

now

**

A winter storm blew in this weekend, a Nor'Easter and made a big snowy mess that resulted in a lot of shoveling, swearing and staying in.  The winds are still high today and it'll take a good 48 hours to get things back to normal out there in terms of clean-up.  I stayed in and caught up on my sleep and some things I had DVR'd.  I drank tea, gabbed to family and oddly enjoyed being hunkered down waiting for the storm to subside.

On this Sunday morning, I woke, made myself poached eggs on homemade multigrain toast, a pot of tea, chipped away at a crossword and polished this poem.  I meant to read more of my book this weekend and work more on my story but I didn't.  I just let things stew and enjoyed the quiet and the knowledge that I didn't have to go anywhere or do anything.  I waded in the peace.  Sometimes you just need to.

Today is the annual Valentine's Day tea with the Myers women.  My sisters and I are going for the 5pm seating.  It's a lovely way to spend an afternoon.  I always look forward to see what tea cup will be mine for the duration of the tea.  I'll be eating light today so I can enjoy the delicate finger sandwiches and sweets that are served along with the company of fabulous women.

Enjoy your Sunday wherever it takes you and whoever you choose to spend it.

Peace.

In propinquity,

Nic