Romantic
Like an old movie,
my heart waits every day at the window
for a sign that you’ve written.
And every day it doesn’t come
my heart grows heavier
until the day comes.
A mere five lines,
not even addressed to me
and all is forgotten.
I am interested in everything old. From records to cars to customs and practices, I am fascinated by the past and how our predecessors went about their daily lives. As a young boy, my father’s father and my mother’s brother would write me letters on a semi-regular basis, and their arrival was a moment of pure bliss for me.
During the pandemic lockdown, I began this process again, thinking to myself, Everyone loves receiving a letter addressed to them. Amazingly enough, some people even wrote back! Much as with social media, the anticipation of someone’s response to my “content” (I shudder at that word) is sometimes more energy-laden than the actual reception of said content.
This poem details that tension, that waiting, that anticipation of someone, somewhere who has shared themselves with another on the written page.
Choose someone you love and write them a letter.
Write.
American author
