Misty May, God must be busy!

Misty May,

Book fair with Mordechai today

I wish you could have come,

although little would have impressed you

for the books incited little fun.

Then we stopped by Autumn Brew,

still a very lovely cafe.

I got a dirty matcha, no sugar, as always,

but the caffeine carried me away.

It's been lovely playing passenger,

I no longer drive as much.

Though I do miss you, 

scolding me from the back

telling me not to rush to the front.

In other news,

I am at a very 

slow, liminal space; 

this still-very-lovely life of mine.

A few months of trying to find

the right answers to ---

what will you do?

What is next in line?

God must be busy

opening someone's jar

or saving a car from getting towed,

Haven't heard from Him quite yet,

though my neighbour said 

He helped her dead Bougainville grow.

Yes, the flowers must bloom in time first,

and the clouds must hide till the laundry dries.

Misty May, tell me

in my silly 

predicament,

this awful state of being,

how must I try to get by?

Sorry to be morose,

you deserve chirpier letters

and happier news.

Well, recently,

you would be glad to hear

that I said goodbye 

to all the men I ever knew.

Misty May,

if all else fails,

and no man who reads

poetry, and the classics,

comes to my humble abode 

attempting courageous courting.

may it be you,

Sun,

who has shone on

the dark caves of

art, literature, philosophy,

and dried the floods,

that overcame them once. 

bidding adieu now,

thank you for remembering me.

recently, I feel as though

my soul is slowly dissipating. 

no one really knows me now,

nor remembers what I like,

thank you for the dragonfly, the books,

the time you spent thinking of me.

Though it may have been minute and fleeting,

I existed elsewhere for a while.

And how lucky

that it was in the most darling place ---

your warm and cluttered mind. 

Sincerely, sincerely,

your life partner and friend,

girl poet who complains about love

yet falls over and over again.