And here is a time capsule.

At my friend Angie's daughter Nora's graduation party, I was brought to tears by sweet Nora, who had a photo I took of her on her grad table. She wants me to make her a copy of the piece I wrote for her to put in her upcoming dorm room. I had forgotten about this. I did this little project a long time ago—I took a photo and wrote a tiny poem on demand for people. All the people in my life: friends, familiar strangers, random folks. I found some on my old Pinterest and am currently scrolling way back on insta a decade or so to look at them all. I will find them, pull them all together this summer, and post them. I think I abandoned the project at 125. I had a lot of fun loving on people. Let me know what you think.

Number 60. Nora Sinead. I know her from the day she came into the world. A rush of beautiful, bossy, bellows. She rules the boys and is quite the little writer. Tonight she had a clipboard at dinner. I adore her. I wrote this for her: You are a little star girl. I love your wild mind and writer ways. You are the one to set fire to the future.

And the one below took the wind out of me. My mom. In our woods.

Number 4. Mom. I know her from the inside of her uterus. She's the kindest lady who always has perfect nails. She takes me for me. I like that. I wrote this for her: The woods here seem to never age. Twigs, trees, dirt as young as you in my mind, painted on the back of my brain.

Rest in peace, mama. 1950-2018

Number 1. Steven Skovensky. I met him at a New Years Party in a house full of people. There was BBQ and craft beers and I learned he was a poet from northwest Ohio and likes poems about grocery stores. I wrote this for him: Sometimes poets just appear like light up on a wall. Like a face full of teeth. The whole room alive. Muscular music.

Number 45. Finnian. I know him from the old days of Clinton Street. Train tracks. The first days of motherhood. He has the best wicked grin. He keeps me on my toes. I love his mind. It goes on forever. I wrote this for him: Your eyes are layered cake goo. I want to see what you do someday with your logical lust. We are different and that's OK. Sometimes I think you are my teacher boy.

Number 104. Carrie. I know her from my friend Kelly and get to see her on the daily now. She's fresh air all over the place and her energy for life makes me purr. I wrote this for her: There's fire in your eyes. Do you know about oceans, water, wet jungles? Anywhere you go you make people want to follow.

Number 42. Blaise. I know him from the day, the sun sliced through the hospital room and he had ginger hair and I was overcome by giggles at how much he looked like my grandpa. He's my kind of twin in lots of ways. He has no filter and he doesn't think it's wrong to feel his way through the world. He just loves. Like a madman. I wrote this for him: Impulsive cherub, you never sleep. Just go like a supernova my god you glow. I'll never stop blowing up with love, mister.

Number 20. David. I know him from the local liquor store. He's chill and cool. I like his aura. I can't help but imagine he thinks Worthington Ohio drinks too much. I wrote this for him: All the bottles lined up in a pretty row. Don't you know you sell dreams and liquid heartbreak all the time.

Number 29. Scout. I know him from my dreams. From magic. The whole wide world. He loves Lego and bedtime stories and kiwis. He wanted a poem tonight I wrote this for him: I don't even know all the words yet that describe you. Teach me more every day. You slay me softly.

Number 33. AJ. I know her from when I complimented her boobs at the farmers market years ago. I love her so much. She is a true biz lady built from scratch and sugar. I wrote this for her: You spin sugar like a witch. People don't know the way you love. It's like a hard punch. It's like a fever.

Number 26. Abby. I know her for the days of blogging and once she walked into a bar and we met and I fell right in love with her badassery. She is kicking the ass of cancer right now and I love her giant heart and spirit and when all I could do was be weak and scared and cry she would let me. She's one of my touchstones in this messed up world. She has been there for me and I want to be there for her always. I wrote this for her: Over and over we find out how much grace there is in life. We trip into other people’s lives. Luck is a river.

Rest in peace my sweet friend. 1975-2017

Wow, this was like finding an old treasure. I was just flipping through and some other people are gone now, too. :( I should finish this project. It is some of the history of my heart.

ilysm

xo

Amy

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