A letter takes two,
To read,
Absorb,
Reflect.
Words are scribed,
Handwriting not perfect.
Something personal,
Something intimate.
The swirls of a pen,
As the nib
Touches paper,
Once sent
Is permanent.
Sticking a stamp
Placing strategically,
In the right-hand corner.
The corner,
That expects a stamp.
The corner that wings
A letter,
Into bright red vans.
Bright red vans,
From North to South,
Drive letters from
House to house.
The gentile flap of the letterbox
As it falls
Onto the floor,
By the mat
You use to clean
Your feet with.
I scrutinise the envelope,
Before opening,
Tearing,
Anticipation
What's inside?
I know it's you now
I read quickly
Pressing fast-forward.
Wanting to know everything.
All at once.
Then it's folded.
Then it stays in my kitchen drawer,
Stored.
Ready to be re-read.
Yours
Mary-Ann