the blue muse

If my life were a scrapbook
it would hold angst and laughter,
memories and monument,
pauses and portent.

If my life were a scrapbook
there would be glue, but no glitter,
colors running through the days,
small words pasted in the margins.

If my life were a scrapbook
you would see plain and pretty
mingled together on each page.

If my life were a scrapbook you would find
love and tenderness, empathy and turmoil,
rage and ritual.

If my life were a scrapbook I would cozy up by the fire
and flip through my pages with longing.

If my life were a scrapbook
you would focus on the shiny bits
pull them off one by one
and line them up
to create your own picture.

If my life were a scrapbook
there would be buttons
but no bows
bones and long rivers
and hawks would fly through my pages.

If my life were a scrapbook there would be no end
just dozens and dozens of beginnings.

If my life were a scrapbook I would
scream with loud colors and
whisper to saints in the darkness.

If my life were a scrapbook
I would hide by the cover
and watch as your smile drew sunset.

If my life were a scrapbook
the lines would be blurred,
the message would be lost,
and the end would reveal
the portal of midnight.

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April is National Poetry Month

I’m participating in NaPoWriMo over at mrs mediocrity with a poem a day for 30 days, so I thought I’d re-run a few poems that I’ve previously published here. This one first appeared in April 2010.

Happy Poetry Month!