Catching Up Again

 It's about time for Fiorella to run into Carolyn Evans once more--if she hasn't died or changed her name again. Your girl won't say our lives have been parallel--far from it--but after high school, we always seemed to run into each other every 10-20 years. Fio's life took the usual path: college, marriage, etc., while Carolyn, who was the epitome of the intellectual wild side, was not usual in any way. Actually, Fio ran into an old friend of Carolyn's a while back and took down some interesting notes. Hmm...maybe she can use them in a book.

 

I walked into my room 

And thought I glimpsed my doggie on the bed

But it was only a ruffled coverlet

My Sonja Dog is dead

 

Hope is a snake that curls within my breast

A sharp-tongued viper aimed against my heart

A blood-coiled serpent, most unwelcome guest ,

That strikes from time to time when I'm off-guard.

Hope is a Scaramouche, a clever fool, 

A honeyed braggart, slick, a worthless flirt,

A quack deceiver, lord of ridicule,

Who gulls my brain when I am not alert.

Hope is a misshaped branch, a crooked tree,

Which grows unbidden in my dismal yard, 

The soft, sweet fruit of which will poison me

If I ignore its proven ill regard.

     But do not slay it--let the villain be--i

      For murdering hope would murder all of me.

As you can tell, Fiorella is going through old writings, and there are a lot more of them in her studio. They make her both sad and mad--with the latter, of course, give her the energy to keep on expressing herself even if no one is listening.