Never Just a Letter
The time has finally come I just knew it. I raced outside to check the mail and as I sorted through the pile I found a letter addressed to me with your name on it. Full of excitement I ran back to my room to read the words that bridge the miles between us. As I begin to read I hear your voice and I see your smile. I hear you say that you miss me and wish I could visit, but for a brief moment, I’m by your side. Through the letter I see you writing poetry like the people you have studied for years. I see you drawing pictures in hopes that one day you too will be famous. I hear you playing music with your band and being yelled at by your neighbors for being too loud. I smile as you roll your eyes and make a sly comment. I see the books piled up on your desk as you push off homework to write me this letter. I pick up the pictures that have fallen in my lap and I see the people and places that are dear to you. Your loopy handwriting explains in detail why these things are important and they become important to me too. I close the letter quickly afraid to finish it too soon. I inspect the cover to find you have drawn me a portrait with the new pens your sister bought you. The letter explains that it is the garden view from your window. I finish the letter as you wave goodbye. Now it is my turn to pick up the pen and paper and transport you here to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment