The Letters

You never liked to get
The letters that I sent
But now you’ve got the gist
Of what my letters meant
You’re reading them again
The ones you didn’t burn
You press them to your lips
My pages of concern
I said there’d been a flood
I said there’s nothing left
I hoped that you would come
I gave you my address
Your story was so long
The plot was so intense
It took you years to cross
The lines of self-defense
The wounded forms appear:
The loss, the full extent;
And simple kindness here
The solitude of strength
I said there’d been a flood
I said there’s nothing left
I hoped that you would come
I gave you my address
You walk into my room
You stand there at my desk
Begin your letter to
The one who’s coming next
Begin your letter to
The one who’s coming next
You never liked to get
The letters that I sent
But now you’ve got the gist
Of what my letters meant
You’re reading them again
The ones you didn’t burn
You press them to your lips
My pages of concern
I said there’d been a flood
I said there’s nothing left
I hoped that you would come
I gave you my address
Your story was so long
The plot was so intense
Took you years to cross
The lines of self-defense
The wounded forms appear:
The loss, the full extent;
And simple kindness here
The solitude of strength