-Autumn shuffles in with slippers and letters-

I used a Parker fountain pen filled with blue-black ink

-London wore a coat most of the time-

To write letters on aerogrammes, sending them off

-You should see the squirrels wrapped in fur-

Across the world. And here they are, returned

-Don’t forget to write. Don’t forget. Where are you now?-

Before someone else flicks a vacant stare on sentiment

-Birds are wailing, agapanthus collapse from thirst-

From a stranger. There’s more, from people long gone

-Master and Mistress, my grandfather, somewhat formal-

Though their handwriting is clear and fresh

-Looking forward to those long long talks again-

Moving from place to place, home never still,

-Give up on the box, it’s the past, move on-

Cursive script recording a video in words,

-Maples redden with the blush of cold-

Charm reduced to the cliche move on,

Move on calls the autumn wind, move on…

-But wait, there is more, on a woodcarving

Of a winter hut, an owl reads letters to an old man-

Though he tossed them out, at 89.


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