Font Color=darkvioletrunaway Letter/Color Poem by Jane Meyer

These words you read will disappear,
So to your memory they must adhere.

Every second gone by these words will fade.
By the hour’s end your mental copy must be made.

I’m sorry that I must tell you this way,
but if things go wrong, you’ll hopefully get away.

Leave the place you despise most of all,
and head for one that changes in fall.

Remember the place of Christmases past.
Think of where you’ve seen snow the last.

And when you have remembered that place,
Look to the north and head where you face.

Once in that state, you’ll know what to do.
Go the way that’s unscarred by two.

From here, your journey is long or short,
depending on your method of transport.

As long as you keep yourself going straight,
along the number that you think is so great,

I’ll be waiting at the water’s shore,
ready to lead you to the life you’ll adore.

(OK, I know that this makes no sense and it’s not supposed to. Not to anyone, but my sister, although I doubt even she would get it. I don’t plan on running away, but awhile back, I realized that if I did, I couldn’t go to my dad’s house, so I’d have to go elsewhere. I couldn’t tell anyone where that would be, but I’d want my sister to know and possibly follow, so I would’ve left something like this behind (theoretically) . So, I’ll explain how I would hope the message would be received. I would write the letter with disappearing ink (which yes, I have) so that if my sister didn’t find it in time neither would the wrong person. The fourth stanza is about leaving Florida and heading to the north. Specifically Iowa because that’s where my sister and I spent some Christmases in the past and it’s the last place we’ve seen snow. Obviously, the state north of Iowa is Minnesota. In Minnesota, I’m hoping she would go to Alexandria because that’s her middle name. She has two scars on her right arm, so I’m asking her to go left for a relatively short distance down 7th avenue because that’s her favorite number. Hopefully she would arrive at Lake Winona in Minnesota and find me. All completely in poetic theory.)