red car, yellow car, blue car, white car

no lucky black car, no orange to wish on

they just sat there for awhile on the edge of the rooftop, feet dangling looking at the rush of cars passing by playing the game they invented and derived from the tongue twister red lorry yellow lorry
if a black car passes by, luck will come through
spot the first green car and you pick the way you die
look for an orange car and make a wish

it was a game they played to **** time or whenever they went up the rooftop of the ballet studio they've been performing at since they were children and they were currently taking a break from swan lake rehearsals. they played the game for a little more though heather could tell that megan-meg for short- had her mind somewhere else.

"penny for your thoughts?"

meg just shook her head, tilting it across the pink skies that matched the tutus they still had on. a dreamy smile was strewn across her face

heather just watched her friend and the world surrounding them, a light gentle bubble in her stomach. she loved the building's rooftop so much; she was actually the one who first went up here and ever since then, it had been their place her place. she went here on weekends sometimes, when they didn't have rehearsals. everytime she was up here, she felt more than she was, like she was a goddess and everything below her was under a microscope like she could change anything with the click of her fingers. but most of all, in here she could freely be. it was her safe haven.

"okay spill tell me this isn't about hendrix again?"

meg smirked, looking at heather's ice blue eyes "okay you caught me" she says, traces of the english accent she had come with still evident in her voice

"i knew it. boy he's got you in such a haze. you've got a school girl crush on him" she teased, making her friend giggle nervously. meg was dating hendrix peters, a senior in the high school they were attending. theyve been seeing each other for six months now and heather knew how much of a ride it was almost as much as meg (being the first person meg ranted to everytime things occurred) the two were a match made in heaven and it was testified by the amount of gossip about them that was circulated, mostly by the senior girls who were head over heels for him and would hiss whenever their paths crossed with meg's and try to flirt with him every chance they got though he politely shook them off. he supported meg in all the possible ways, from attending to her performances on stage to supporting and showing off her stunning makeup looks and she did the same with him, coming to all his football games and enthusiastically cheering for him. they were madly in love, you could say

"it's not like that" meg scoffed, clasping both of her hands together. "ive just been thinking about the both of us and our togetherness and how we haven't done it yet and yea it's been in my mind alot" she bit her lip, a habit of nervousness she had "it's not a big deal i know, i mean, people do it all the time, people who aren't even together and it's not this eureka moment or anything of the sorts but i want it to be special at least"

"has he been asking you to do it?"

"no he doesn't really no, forcing there" meg shakes her head "but we did talk about it some time, once, thrice yea"

"someday then or tomorrow just be safe my dear friend" heather replies in a playful tone, trying to bring back the lightness of the conversation

"ugh help me practice my skills give it all to me darling, let me do you" her friend wickedly retorts, launching atop her and pinning her to the concrete, playfully mock *******

"ew dude *******'re so gross get off me" she says trying to act annoyed but she was laughing too all the while trying not to get crushed by meg's weight who was strangely heavy despite her small wiry frame

"ow babe im coming ugh" meg continues, laughing fooling around-this was how their friendship worked

"*******. now your germs are all over me" heather grunts, finally pushing meg off her and both of them just lay there for minutes, laughing too much and choking in their breaths, as the sky was bathed in watercolor above them, the sounds of the city being their soundtrack


"what's it like?" heather blurts once theyve both calmed down

"hmmm?"

"what's it like, being with him?"



meg raises her hands like she was touching the clouds, taking the question in deeply "it's....wonderful....i mean...we aren't always happy and we have loads of fights but....we manage to make it work and the whole thing drives me crazy but it's a good kind of crazy"

her answer dissolves in heather's thoughts are completely lost in it


"you know that when we first got together i told him how much i hated clichés? flowers, chocolates stuffed animals, fancy dinner dates you name it and he nodded and the first gift he gave me was a boquet out of makeup products and i laughed because it was thoughtful and he's just full of surprises but you know he did give me flowers and letters on an occasion but i didn't mind it.
i guess that's how love is, made out of all the things you love thrown in with things you don't like but you don't mind at all"

heather nodded, still deep in thought "how did you know?"


the question seemed to have an incomplete thought but meg got the gist "i just did. well i didn't know itd last but i did know that he was for me but he's not my soulmate see, you don't find soulmates, you make them. anyone could be your soulmate, soulmates are just a ****** up idea at finding love. someday you'd know kid"

heather rolled her eyes. she hated being called kid because she was reminded of how much younger she was from meg when it came to these sorts of things "don't call me that"

"you'd know" meg pats her friend in the head, lovingly still teasing her

she sits up, tying the ribbons of her satin slippers. they climb down the fire exit and join the rest of the ballet dancers, rehearsing for the rest of the day



and heather went back to the rooftop the day after, a saturday in solitude sorting out the contents of her brain, replaying the conversation she and her bestfriend had in this very place the previous day, all the while feeling a sort of feeling in her heart very familiar to nostalgia. she realized it was the feeling of longing. longing for love like meg's description of it. longing for love like the glow of stardust. longing for love
sure she had a boyfriend before but not once did she feel like how meg described love out to be with him not once did she feel like their kisses and hugs mean something and their fights never felt worth fighting for. sure she had this guy in her grade whom she passed notes and looks with and texted for days but it was never serious and he didn't see her in that certain light that makes people glow that you fall for and even if they dated it would have been too complicated.

it was a winding day for her mind to wander and she played their game as the cars went on their journey on the highway down below.

an orange car swooshes out of nowhere and she closes her eyes and makes a wish when my person comes please i hope i'll know, holding on for a beat more. after that a black car passes and her luck was aligned with the stars

Three piles of stones…

Three I held most dear to my heart,
Three are those that perished,
Now three piles of stones fill the gaps,
That their ashen bodies have left.

Black reflective stones for my mother,
Who taught me all I know,
Who named me Green for my love of the garden,
My mother, who preferred blue-jay feathers to her pearls,
My mother, whose gap,
Occupied now by black stones.

Silver clear stones for my father,
Who was strong and honest,
My father, who once whistled a tune,
A tune returned by the surrounding sparrows,
My father, whose gap,
Occupied now by silver stones.

Pure white stones for my sister,
Who was beautiful and wild,
Who ran through the woods laughing
Who chased frogs through the mud,
My sister, who shone more bright than the moon,
Her gap,
Occupied now by pure white stones.

Three are those that perished,
The same number that I held most dear to my heart,
Ashes are their body remains,
Three piles of stones,
Now fill their gaps.

Ashes and stones…

Ashes and stones are all that is left,
Of the garden I loved to tend.
Zucchini and purple onions,
Peppers and blueberry bushes,
Row after row of prolific treasures,
Burned,
Banished,
Out of existence.

Onion and Ghost…

Onion,
My sister’s little terrier,
Who knew exactly what happened,
Who barked at the ash filled sky,
Onion,
The little terrier,
Who missed Aurora,
His watcher,
My sister…
My beautiful and wild sister.

Ghost,
The white grey hound,
A ghost dog,
White as a cloud,
Moving through the woods like mist,
The ghost dog,
Who resembled sorrow.

Onion and Ghost,
My two constant companions,
Who like me,
Have had their lives split into two halves,
The first, one of happiness and abundance,
The second, one of ashes and stones.

My neighbor…

The old woman,
Whose house stood in the woods,
Surrounded by an apple orchard,
The old woman,
Who had thrown stones to drive away,
The looters in my garden.

The old woman,
Who I repaid,
With a bucket and mop,
And made her house shine.

This old woman,
Wise and friendly,
Who traded birdseeds
For my bread loafs.

The Forgetting Shack…

The Forgetting Shack,
Where boys and girls drink gin to forget,
Where Heather Jones, with her white dress,
Dances around the fire,
Alone and lost.

Heather Jones,
Whose parents had perished,
Just as mine had.
Heather Jones,
Whom I gave my mother’s blue dress.

Heather Jones,
Who danced around the fire at the Forgetting Shack,
Whose feet were ****** from dancing all night,
Whose eyes were empty and sad.

Heather Jones,
Who soon disappeared,
Too busy with trying to forget.

Heather Jones,
Whose blue dress,
I found in torn pieces,
In the ashes of the fire.

Diamond…

The boy who ran from the fire,
Ran across the river,
In search of his mother,
Her portrait close to his heart.

The boy who didn’t speak,
The boy who was tired of running,
Who stood still as a shadow in my doorway,
Who wore his black hood to hide his eyes.

This boy,
Who I named Diamond…

Diamond,
With his hidden voice,
Me,
With my clouded eyes.

Leafs that were once black, now an apple green…

There was Onion and Ghost,
The sparrows and the wind,
And now there was Diamond.

I soon found myself singing,
Dancing,
Smiling.

The black ink leaves,
The black ink roses…
Slowly transforming into
Apple green.

Where did this change come from?
I was Ash,
With black ink in my skin,
With gray clouded eyes…

Green…*

Diamond is gone,
Diamond, who brought about change,
Diamond…
Who kissed me goodbye.

I missed Diamond,
Who painted watercolors,
Who believed the garden would grow again.

I missed Heather Jones,
Who wore my mother’s blue dress,
Who danced too close to the fire.

I missed Ghost,
A white mist through the trees,
A ghost dog,
Who resembled sorrow.

Most of all,
I missed my sister,
Aurora,
My beautiful, wild sister,
Who chased frogs through the mud.

I dreamed of those I missed,
I woke crying,
I cried away the cloudiness in my eyes,
Sun shown out the window,
Seedlings grew in the garden.

From then on, there was no Ash,
Ash blew away with the wind.

I was Green again,
Green who tended the garden,
Green who sang with the sparrows,
Green who danced in the sun,
Green who smiled.











*For my english class, we were assigned an independent reading project, and I chose to write a poem from the main character's perspective. The book is called "Green Angel" and the author is Alice Hoffman. Hoffman is one of the most beautiful writers of all time, and her books are extroadinary! I strongly suggest all you hello poetry friends to read it!