Letters

a life of words on paper burned in less

than sixty minutes - in a concave pan 

turned sideways, laying on the ground...  

letters written and saved and fifty years

until given to me to hold onto...  about

myself to others they were and meant

for no one else...  no reason to keep

except for vanity they would say if they

knew what had been done, but they did

not they say...  knew nothing of it...  but

then those words I do not believe...  so

they were burned in front of me to hide

my past from myself and others who are

keen enough to pry...  I am not the one I

was nor wanted to be but the one I ended

up becoming as the years unfolded and my

body yielded to the temptatioin of age...

fifty years of letters that my parents kept

before giving them to me for disposition 

and onto them I held for another twenty

until deciding it was time to say goodbye.

28 October 2022