There is a letter hiding
Inside this envelope.
Addressed in handwriting
As if etched….on
A print I recognize…..
Familiar marks I wished, at times, I never knew
Other times, I wished I had known better.
So are our lives…..represented
By this letter……
A relationship of a paper receptacle
With its four corners, glued folds
A flap that awaits closure
With many words waiting to be
You have added, perhaps
A final voice inside this letter.
An ending I search for
Mixed with the anxiety for the loss
Of the sound your words make.
And the question is
If I open this letter
Will reading it stir up all those summers
heated in our veins, or
Will its therapy send a cool breeze
To pacify all the seasons we have invested
In? ….Surely, the wind is unpredictable.
If the breeze picks up,
As it has done many times
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