city tulips

Em stopped in today. She brought tulips and a red bag from Strand. And, a book. It's like she knew I needed one; knew it was one of those days. I woke up wanting. Something. A new shade of lip gloss. A new felt tip pen. A new song to sing to. A new book to inspire. I love the blue-gray cover. Like the sea. I'm 30 pages in. (Em, it's a gem). I found a Raffaello Sanzio bookmark among a pack of papers down in the office today. I've tucked it behind the pages of my new book. The gold of the Madonna's crown peaks up just above the blue-gray, like a tulip emerging in Spring.

Em sat in the red chair at my parent's house. She wore her gorgeous white coat and balanced a chocolate brown bag on her lap. I'm wearing my pink sneakers. They poke out from my dark jeans; the only hint of hue to my monochromatic black-blue outfit. My foot went back and forth, one knee over the other, effortlessly swinging, as Em caught me up on her trip home. I wish she could stay. I wish New York City wasn't so far away.

My blue book is tucked into my red bag. I'm headed home to my yellow brick house with my tulips. Farewell, sweet Em. Until summer in the City.