In a box, in a drawer, in a cupboard, in a corner
Lie the remnant reflections of a departed lover's mourner
On a shelf, on a whim, on a back-burner, windowsill
Rest the spirits, of those suitors, she place upon a pedestal
By the breezeway, by the back door, by the wooden nightstand table
In her diary, in her journal, in her daily written fables...
Near her crucifix, her bible, near her beaded rosary...
Are the, still unsent, love letters, that no one else will see...
This poem touched me. I have read some of my unsent love letters so many times over!
I was rummaging about your poems looking for Reflections and came across this gem. I grew up in the Bronx and was cared for by an older woman who kept very old pictures of her departed husband along with other trinkets that seemed locked in time. I was forever imagining them together young and care free. I imagined her shoe boxes filled with old letters and notes..really bought back some nice sepia memories.. if you have a chance read my Love Letter Hidden.. Thanks for sharing
Folded neatly and stored in hope's chest... in words you draw a map to a hidden treasure.
The pauses and progressions in this poem build as with memories over days and then years and imbued into our home and possessions, held in the smells, fibres and patina of our trickling days. A fine lyrical and melodic journey.
Wonderful! ! Got me at the first rhyme, subtle and sweet. May this damsel's life be free. So boxed up, so much concealed, hope she doesn't suffocate
Wonderful! ! Got me at the first rhyme, subtle and sweet. May this damsel's life be free. So boxed up, so much concealed, hope she doesn't suffocate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
read again to remind the occasion why they kept unsent