Sixteen poems later…

All the rest have thirty-one…

In the course of these thirty-one days, I

  1. composed sixteen poems,
  2. listened to over 2,100 songs (an average of 68 tracks per day),
  3. visited the Chautauqua Institution a few times,
  4. lived through torrential downpours,
  5. started cleaning our mess of a basement,
  6. played my favorite character ever (Millie from “Thoroughly Modern Millie”),
  7. listened to the whole Avenue Q soundtrack and thought it was hilarious,
  8. traveled through a mud-soaked town,
  9. was carried by my best friend over a mud puddle that was too deep,
  10. took pictures of my friend sitting above a mud-covered steeplechase pit,
  11. began my fifth season of cross country,
  12. attended a funeral,
  13. went swimming the most I have all summer,
  14. ran down the longest road of my life TWICE,
  15. hung out with cousins I haven’t seen in four years,
  16. genuinely wanted to help people, but then ended up doing nothing,
  17. took part in the most annoying theater experience of my life,
  18. decided I have found my niche,
  19. haven’t been able to stop listening to The Beatles,
  20. took apart my childhood, piece by piece,
  21. had a bathroom to myself for a little while,
  22. moved my oldest brother back home, for the umpteenth time,
  23. have had to get my dad numerous pages of directions off of mapquest because he is technologically illiterate and can’t do it himself,
  24. discovered just how much I like Imogen Heap,
  25. watched Grady grow into a monster puppy,
  26. witnessed Ruby’s crush on Reggie and watched him reject her,
  27. got angry that school was starting days ahead of schedule,
  28. experienced the hottest week of summer,
  29. experienced the coldest week of summer,
  30. threw rocks in the creek,
  31. and was alive for every minute.

Here’s to hoping September is just as peaceful and relaxing. Yeah, right.


One thought on “Sixteen poems later…

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