Letter from Paris
Send me a letter from Paris
as we drift into winter
a winter neither harsh
nor unrelenting,
but rather a forgetting of heat
and a clenching of heart.
Remembering my young days
I shall travel into fresh regions
of thought and reassessment,
venture forth as any snail
from my shell into cold rain
and the aroma of discontent.
Send me your letter from Paris;
time may crumple behind me.
Poet from Paris or Indiana,
we will laugh once more at misfortune
and in this damp autumn,
again I shall walk spring streets.
Lynette M. Arden
published in 'A Nickel's Worth of Dreams' anthology (PoetWorks 2004)
top