Heartpen: Poems of a Cardiac Quill

My Heartpen

I wrote a letter with my heartpen

and mailed the letter to myself,

a poor man's copyright

that each bout I copy wrong,

forgetting

to capitalize a digit at the beginning of a sentence

or to put a period at the end of my question

or to dot a t or to cross an i,

knowing nonetheless

that I must come to grips—

rather than with the

idiosyncrasies

of my idiocy,

my t's,

my i's—

I

must come to grips

with the

things that take.

the things that break.

Oh, dear God,

I find notes of empathy

written on my heart

by someone's heartpen

and by my heartpen

then

on another heart

that's another pen

that's another's heart

that's another's pen.