Jolanta Gradowicz

His Letters

She knows it well: she’ll never look at his eyes.
And yet it’s of little importance to her.
She sends letters to him, and he still replies,
Every message is like a fresh spring flower.

Until now she’s collected many of them;
She tied them in big, dried colorful bouquets
At her old age she’ll reach for a fragrant stem
To recall him and the great, breathtaking days.

And when he doesn’t reply to her some day,
It doesn’t matter - she won’t change her outlook.
She’ll infuse a cup of tea; Green or Earl Grey,
And press the blooms among pages of her life’s book…

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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 2, 2007
Poem Edited: Wednesday, February 9, 2011

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Comments about His Letters by Jolanta Gradowicz

  • Sandra Fowler (5/17/2007 3:29:00 PM)

    Very poignant. There is no greater gift than a close letter friend. Take care.

    Warmest regards,

    Sandra

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Maya Angelou

Caged Bird



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