Hey … back from choir camp. Got some nice note-taking done between (and during if we were practicing a part in which I don’t sing) rehearsals; the third installment of my short story series is pretty much planned. Hooray. Was tweaking a few random paragraphs over here while recovering – choir-ing is pretty damn tiring when you’re doing it right – and thought I’d get in a little randomness. Probably don’t really need much more after that weekend, but still. All randomness can be good and appreciated. No lyrics or sonnets this time, though. Instead, shall return to my roots and employ the style of my fifth post: the cinquain.
Sister Erin went on world travels for several months in 2009. In the many countries she visited, she purchased many lovely gifts for us, her family. Several of them, including a beautiful scarf from the markets of Istanbul, inspired similar souvenirs sent to my Eva by her parents as they enjoyed their own travels, unseen, throughout the entirety of the book she appears in.
From Tanzania (or it may have been South Africa; shall confirm this with her at one point) Erin purchased Frannie, Liam, and myself gorgeous soapstone animals. Frannie received a hippopotamus, Liam an elephant. My rhinoceros lives by the computer monitor. Quite near where the doll thermometer now resides, in fact.
It is lovely, so cool and smooth, and such a comforting little weight. I like to press it to my cheek when I’m absently thinking, and my lips fit perfectly into the curve of its back.
Being such a fine thing, I felt it deserved a poem. It receives, therefore, my second bloggy cinquain. Far from polished, but every word so true.
white veined soapstone
a strong back’s curve