PAGE TWO
WRITING A LETTER
You painted ink on paper in style
more like flutter of butterfly wings
with an in-tray full of pink envelopes
(yes, it was always pink);
I suppose it was a girlie thing.
Writing letters was easy,
(eye contact embarrassing)
your pleasure was explaining
(though unnecessary)
without interruptions.
Guess what! I had gut feelings,
knew it was coming
it smoothed my pain.
You shifted like a caged bird,
hanging by your beak at the door
hoping someone would open it
from outside
Inside, the solid gold ring
was fixed to the latch,
and outside - freedom
just nothing but open sky.
No one opened the door,
you wished and wished
till the door fell apart.
Then you wrote me the letter
(again, needed no explanation!)
in it I sensed freedom.
will be posted soon