Writing Letters
In a book of love letters
written centuries ago
I found a line you once wrote to me
and it startled me so badly
that I closed the book
replaced it upon the shelf
and avoided it for months.
It was a letter from a man
to his lady love
separately secluded in pastoral France
and I think of another letter you wrote
while I was in Luxembourg
in which you ended with the words
"Get to Paris at all costs,"
and I wonder
if the two
might be connected.
You loved my letters
my practiced penmanship
and humorous style
but it was to my sister
that my letters
were most creative.
Her favorite and mine,
a letter where on one page
I wrote every third line
until the page was full;
on another I began writing
on all four edges of the page
and spiraled inward.
Thirteen pages,
each different and unique
as I recalled for her
the mundane details of my days -
And then I got a computer.
And, despite my best intentions
promises made to myself and friends
I stopped writing letters,
replacing them
with infrequent cards
and impersonal printouts.
And even though
their content was much the same
they were devoid of much
of their former style
and personality.
And so it was
that we lost touch
and I was left behind
to seek you elsewhere.
I returned to that book one day
and though the words
of that long ago lover
still rang with your voice
they'd lost some of their sting.
(prior to) 28 Apr 2005
Cori MacNaughton
I am posting this poem in response to @carolkean's post here.
I had planned on posting it several hours ago, only to discover that, yet again, our satellite internet provider was down, despite our skies being entirely clear. Sigh.
Life is wonderful. And at 29 degrees Fahrenheit at the moment, due in part to our beautiful clear skies, I am very grateful that our heaters are working. All is right in the world.
And I would love to hear your take in the comments.
April Showers May - Day 92 - Daily Haiku
Raining, Still Raining - Day 91 - Daily Haiku
To the Lovely and Hilarious Dorothy Mae Powell - RIP. I love you and miss you.
Awaiting the Storm – Day 90 – Daily Haiku
Photos from Years Past – Day 89 – Daily Haiku
Claus Ogerman and Michael Brecker - In the Presence and Absence of Each Other (Part 1) - Music - Jazz
Wayward Guinea Pig, Part 2
A Friend is Upset – Day 88 – Daily Haiku
Wayward Guinea Pig – Day 87 – Daily Haiku
A Message from My 90-Year-Old Self to My Self Today
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All words and images are my own.
The photo at top is my mother's Eastlake writing desk, which I am currently in the process of making the focal point of my own writing-nook-in-progress. I took the photo this afternoon using my Samsung Note 8 smart phone.
The photo of our dog, Lolo, and our late cat, Miod, I took as they were cooperatively begging at the dinner table, despite our longstanding rule of not feeding them from the table.
You can see how much that deterred them both.
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