GHOST WRITER


The envelope was old and tatty,
held together by scotch tape.
Her address in handwriting
she hadn’t seen for years
and never thought to see again.

In the top right hand corner
a postmark;
16 May 1993
Mailed seventeen years ago;
same year her daughter was born.

Trembling hard she opened it
pulled out the precious contents,
and holding the letter in her hands
fell hard to the floor.

He loved her, the letter said
would always love her
till the day he died, and beyond,
and when he saw her next
they would be married.
Their child would have his name.

She’d waited for him
all those years ago,
but never once heard from him;
no phone calls, no letters.
So, while grieving for love gone sour,
she’d raised their daughter alone,
sadly erased him from her heart.

Not too long after
their daughter was in the school library,
found an article in an old newspaper;
ripped out the page,
raced home to her mother.

Most likely driver fatigue the article said
car had gone off the road
head first down a ravine.
A grainy picture showed the mangled wreck;
infants clothing and stuffed toys
strewn all around it.

Happened a while ago
May it was
1993

Comments:
 
StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 4/8/2010 4:37:17 AM
Touches the heart this one does. You sometimes wonder why certain things did and did not happen in life. This gem of a story tells why.

frederic   frederic wrote
on 3/17/2010 6:06:42 PM
Are we to find strength and courage in her? In her plight?

kiwigirl
Poetry
Free Verse
writing kiwigirl
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart
--Helen Keller
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