I have been going through the vats of old letters I have in my closet. Yes, I am a letter hoarder. It is a problem. If someone takes the time to write down anything on paper, I keep it. There is something about a letter that registers deeply within me. Sometimes I dream that people one hundred years from now will come across these letters and think...They could really think anything at all about me one hundred years down the line and I'd be more than satisfied! During my readings, I came across something I had written. It is a poem written to my beloved Tom the year before we were married. I am daring to publish it here because, well, I like it! And that is rare for me to say of my poetry. I hope you enjoy it as well. Light Year If you sing me that night with its crickets and stars, its machine-sprinkled water a mist curtaining Mars from my sight as I sit wishing nothing - Maybe something - Is a kiss coming? That song might make me sing inside like the river ...
"Earth's crammed with Heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes - The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning