In the woods

Years later — years
— I send the last
letter by mail,

securing the possibility
it will get lost,
that you will never

read it, and then
will I have written
what I did?

Suspecting all our words
were no more
than a tree falling

and falling, and
no one there to hear.






    1. Thank you for sharing.


  1. nice poem. Once years ago my grandmother and I tried to mail a package to my aunt and it got lost in the mail.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, and it seems to happen more these days than in the past. Thank you for reading!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Evocative, Cate – there are a handful of people I wish I could send a letter to – let them know my long-ago emotions have morphed into respect for differences. And one person I’d dearly love to get such a letter from, but the Post Office doesn’t serve his current realm.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Jazz. I have a few beloveds that share your friend’s ZIP code …

      Liked by 1 person

  3. bradwiggins · · Reply

    I love your work… always transports me to a different place and time. Thank you so much for sharing!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re welcome, dear Cousin. That you read and comment means so much to me.


  4. I find these words resounding over and over in my mind, my memory, flashes come to me. In family people were spread out apart by cities by continents by ocean. They/we wrote letters, back and forth, reading and creating history. Then it appeared people had been keeping saving their letters. The most prolific writer, my aunt Vivian began as she felt age, returning to everyone their letters. Soon we all did. Letters written years decades before came back. I look at mine and I search within myself for that person. So strange. I’m still looking….

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Glad this triggered such a meaningful reflection for you. Thank you for reading!


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