Forgotten Letters


The top of a dusty trunk

slowly opens,

its rusty hinges creek.

The smell of old,

once crisp new paper,

a clear watermark,

frail pages barely stand.

The onslaught of time,

sepia, tired and worn,

the years taken their toll.

Envelopes, once tied

in rubber bands,

brittle and broken, crumbled,

with age.

Four cent stamps,

envelopes adorned,

“S.W.A.K., sealed with a kiss.

D-liver D-letter D-sooner D-better.

Postman, postman, don’t delay,

get the letter there today.”

A cast of characters,

Dave and Bella

once more

step forward and

take center stage.

An ancient play,

dated scenes,

written in

musty old letters

“Do you think she likes me?

Not just “likes me,

” I mean LIKES, LIKES me!”

That story,

so long ago,

put to rest

in a box.

They’ve long since

gone separate ways,

yet now, their voices cry out

from a place that

no longer exists.

The pull of a bygone time,

a fathomless dimension

beckons, the distant past.

“I miss you so much!

Do you still like me?

Are we still going steady?”

A time warp,

it can’t be, and yet….

Here it is!

—Martin A. Bojan—


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