Letter In the Night
"My Dearest," she had written
somewhere on the page
where darkness hid it now quite out of sight.
The little stub of candle,
half-mooned upon the sheet,
gave only just a bit of palest light.
It was all she really needed,
not truly even wanting
to see the words entire in their flight
Of scribbled dots and dashes,
of blotches from her teardrops...
No, she did not need to have it really bright.
"I'm leaving," she had written
somewhere in the darkness,
with letters slanting downward to the right.
But the pen had fallen numbly
from her cramping fingers,
finding words too hard for her to write.
So she stared in silent sorrow
at the page that lacked the telling
of the ending of her struggle and her fight
To keep on loving always
as she'd thought she really could
but found she truly couldn't...no, not quite.
Jo Anzalone 6-12-2007
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