A Letter To Annie Poem by Cowboy Ron Williams

Dear Annie:

I think about you sometimes when I pass that old poplar tree
there by the little red schoolhouse where we first met. It's all boarded
up now. They closed it not long after you moved away. I'm actually

quite surprised that they haven't torn it down and built something
else in that spot. It's such a good location. If I had the money I would
buy it and turn it into a bookstore. You know how I love books. Our

first-grade teacher, Miss Evans, built a fire inside me for reading,
and I remember you loved to read as well. Remember that great book
As I Was Young and Easy? That was one of my favorites. I still

remember the huge catfish and the one kid complaining to his mother
because his sibling said that his oatmeal was snot! I've often thought
that's exactly what cooked oatmeal looks and feels like. If I have to eat

oatmeal, I eat it raw, with cold milk. You built a different fire inside me,
but we were too young to do anything about it at the time. I remember the
first time you kissed me - - I was surprised but not disappointed.

You were so soft and warm in my arms and I didn't want to ever let
you go. When your dad got that job clear across the country, I thought
I would die of a broken heart. We were both still in high school and

I had no way to support you, so marriage was out of the question.
I had hopes that in a couple of years we could get back together
and stay together forever, but it didn't work out that way. We wrote

love letters to each other for quite some time, but then your letters
just stopped. Did you meet someone new and fall out of love with me?
If so, why didn't you at least tell me? Perhaps my last letters got lost in the

mail and you thought that I had stopped writing. If so, you should
have written me an angry letter and scolded me for that. I guess
I'll never know what happened, but I can't help it if I think about

you once in a while. I hope you found a worthy husband to marry
and that your life has been happy. I can picture you with half a dozen
beautiful children, in a white house surrounded by roses and tulips.

I have tried to search for your maiden name on the Internet
but have had no success whatsoever. My children have grown up and
left the nest, and my wife passed away two years ago, so I'm alone.

If you happen to be alone as well, I wish you would look me up.
I still live in the old home town, and my number is in the phone book.
I never stopped loving you.

Love, Ron