Saturday, 9. May 2009
Unposted Letter
I still wait for the heft
of those slight notes,
those flurries in spring like cherry blossoms falling.
For whatever reason (is it the lambent swan I saw?)
absence of that traffic today like a weight on the heart.
Trees are enrobing themselves again, and no one I know here
rolls up their jeans like you did in that evanescent season.
You could write to tell me that, you know. But also know you won't.
My Poems
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