If you want to travel run
around the neighbourhood with an empty
suitcase in hand. At least once, full circle.
Wear yellow underwear
for the 31st, lest fortune oversee your cup
as she pours. Yes, thank you. I too wish you excitement
& wealth in the New Year.
Mostly, I hope you get
through tomorrow, and then the day
after. I hope you sing other than all alone
and find surprise
in the timbre of your voice.
I hope you eat well
and sleep well, and go unabashed
to the doctor’s when you need.
I hope you see the radical beauty of a cactus
a hedgehog, or a pasture full
of Valais Blacknose sheep grazing
and feel astonished by what you had
failed before to perceive.
Go somewhere cerulean
without posting a thing. Be busy
loving yourself. Take a chance on
I wish you growth, which is to say
I hope you become more tree
every day when it’s easier
to become fire.
Write down your dreams as they come.
Certain births take longer.
Hope you’re out there in the big
world dancing. Most importantly,
don’t forget to ask.
When abuela hands you a bowl of grapes
take twelve, no more no less. Infuse each
with a wish before you eat them.
Lord knows I’ve lost months to impatience.
In a year I’ll let you know
just how much closer I am
to becoming a jacaranda, but
you’ll know by the by purple
trumpets at your feet.
Daughter to a Peruvian mother and a Swiss father, Nicole Lachat received an MFA in poetry from New York University. She won second prize in the Short Grain 2018 poetry contest, has poetry in Palimpsest Magazine, and currently resides in Edmonton, AB.