Letters Poem by Kim Keith

Inky swirls on lavender paper sealed with her desire,
a spritz of perfume, and her favorite fire engine lip-prints
torn into a lover’s puzzle by uninterested hands.

She secretly dreads Sundays and federal holidays;
it may look like a weary white mailbox to anyone else,
but to a lonesome military wife, it represents hope.

He pressed the check-yes-or-no to her desk under Teacher’s nose,
ears burning with optimism for a lunch hour date.
“Detention” barks Teacher as the note is intercepted.

Momma knows how tough a first day in a new school could be:
she pats her ruffled daughter with the sympathetic hands
that slipped words of encouragement into Lillie’s lunch box.