Your Letters

Your lines

written

on childhood paper

not unlike

the scritchy-scratchy crows feet

which now perch

around my eyes

I see in them
dare I say it?
... love

Boy across the street

that’s who you were to me

for years

“His people

hardworking

salt of the earth

but ...

not washed
in the

soul-cleansing-blood-of-the-lamb”

So, I married a young man

who went to the preaching

like clock-work

The last time we met

really talked
we two

I was cold
cutting

drawing bad blood

between us

The young man

who attended the preaching

like clock-work
is gone now

but not before breaking
my spirit
and each
Commandment sacred

In between the lines

of your

timeworn letters

I belatedly

see

feel

understand

Dare I say it?

… love