Garlic Chives

After some stirring conversation with inspiring people, I've caught sight of why I started this thought compendium in the first place. It's the best notebook there is because I can't lose it. In the past I have loved keeping a collection of notebooks because my ideas are spread across many volumes and if I lose one, my history of thought is only slightly injured.

But it's also a chaotic way to collect thoughts. A good friend of mine is a prolific poet in Syracuse whose word flow constantly shatters my mind, another created his own music podcast and is at the forefront of the Rochester music scene. They're both constantly learning and growing by applying their ideas to their unique creative channels. Here's to them and here's to everyone out there trying to make themselves better through whatever outlet they choose.

Poetry is one outlet pretty far outside my comfort zone, but I was compelled to write a few simple lines after running through the park on a marvelous October afternoon. I was walking down a steep hill and realized the slope was covered in wild chives! I took a handful home and sprinkled them on garlic bread to share with Mom and Grandma:

Garlic Chives
(Allium tuberosum):

Tender blue tendrils
slender limbs wave
sheepishly on the hillside
hiding between green tufts
of tough grass

Not green enough
to blend in unseen
I pick one blade
and nibble cautiously

Their garlicky spice
tastes of Grandma's
forgotten garden
so I pick a handful
to bring her a memory