Letters
Letters
by Frank Scarangello
They wrote each other letters
breathless and palpitant befitting young lovers,
which she carefully wrapped in ribbon
placing them in his duffel bag
sitting silently in the garage
Reaching in, a random note from ’65 he chose
visible still her lipstick on the seal
reading it over and over
recalling nights they gave themselves
to sensuality
touching lips to body
the excitement bestowed on one another
in a bed of dark pecan
visions of hips and finger tips
limbs perfect and trembling
It was a good life together
abruptly ended by the Fates
in his hand their passion’s echo
recording the fires once shared
the light now fading in the heavens
and in his body
Returning the missive to its place, now sad
he went into the night to change his thoughts
listening to frogs and crickets
moonlit dragonflies
clacking palms and jacaranda
Randall – many thanks for reading and commenting. The letters are hers and mine – sitting in the garage in my duffel bag. She is gone almost 9 years.
Glad you liked.
Regards, Frank
A poignant tale told with evocative detail (“visible still her lipstick on the seal”), sensuous imagery (“in a bed of dark pecan visions of hips and finger tips”), a fine sense of line (“It was a good life together/abruptly ended by the Fates”), and resonant sounds (“clacking palms and jacaranda”). We don’t need to know anything more about their life together other than it ended and the letters commemorating it have been kept, bringing sadness that necessitates thinking of something else. Great photo.