I never really wrote
By the time I was old enough,
correspondence via post was mostly over.
My generation put down pen and page
and began to share life digitally.
I wrote and received
notebooks of notes in school
from girlhood comrades
and poured over puzzling punctuation
in my yearbook
from lamborghini loving boys.
But not day to day letters,
like my mother received
from her mother Dolly
about lazy days of Florida rest
or holiday turkey scandals (dry).
I resolve and conceive a lot
in writing and reading,
both in my head and in my heart.
And so perhaps I think I’m behind
in my intellectual and emotional sorting.
And that’s one reason
I write poems and brief writings ~
so that I may catch up
to where I might be
in a world still with letters.
I didn’t attend the funeral,
but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it. – Mark Twain
What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. – Liz Carpenter
One of my favorite historical letters, written by American Civil War officer Sullivan Ballou to his wife Sarah, can be viewed here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sullivan_Ballou
image: Mark Twain, 1835-1910, biography.com
It’s true I see him mostly in summer,
and so our reunion is in warm weather.
He is waiting with our people
at a round table with open chairs,
asking questions with no corners,
and responding with no slip slope.
He is dapper in a crisp polo
and pressed pleated shorts,
his tennis shoes ever white.
And when I come in he grins,
his downturned smile playing at suppression,
his boyish and mischievous humor
bursting to share the good joke.
And I laugh out loud for no reason but joy.
I am so very glad to see him.
Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love. – 1 Corinthians 16:13-14
For my amazing & beloved Uncle Ken, 1933-2014
Brit the Bright
and Psalmist Sam
and Too Tall Ted
George the Good
and Prairie Paul
and Sailing Saul
and Get ‘Em Gil
and June Bug Jill
and Marvel Meg
ten times again
the Courage kept
These things I have spoken to you,
that in Me you may have peace.
In the world you have tribulation,
but take courage; I have overcome the world.
Rise up Katheryn! xo
and tweedle tones
birch tree maids
to gurgle praise
flute and string
a granite chair
in open air
conceive a day
of leaf and lace
a wild tender
We wake, if ever at all, to mystery. – Annie Dillard
image: our Susie Blythe, by De La Vue Photography