Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Burning Letter

Table in the Foyer

The Burning Letter

Wading through morning's harvest 
of the mail reaped the usual 
bills, flyers and junk ads. 
Then I spotted 
the familiar lazy scrawl 
on the table before me. 
After all these years ... 
a pearl among the cow pies. 
I marveled at how the letter felt, 
tucked into the pocket 
of my blue jeans, 
first halved, then quartered, 
where misbehaving hands and mind 
won't breach ceremonial rules, 
not to touch 
or want to open it. 
I was unable to ignore the letter 
or throw it away. 
I'm not sure how long 
I walked around with it there. 
I only know 
it began to burn and blister 
and it scorched my self-control. 
It was not until I saw the jeans 
in the washer, letter and all, 
twisting and turning 
in the soapy water 
that I was even aware 
of what I'd done
just to find some peace. 

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“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

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