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. 

(From the Book, Anatomy of a Poet)

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