I wrote this for the Art as Poetry exhibit with Lakeshore Artist Guild. I was working on a villanelle, but they take me soooo long to write that I was worried I wasn’t going to finish by the deadline. And then the line “The first day I didn’t write the letter” popped into my head, so I went with it. I am also sharing the art that inspired it.
The Old Post Office
Heartache Could be a Stamp
The first day
I didn't mail the letter
a wedge of early sun
woke me on the other side
of what I meant to do.
I watched the river's
high water heave —
a float of phrases
knocking shore.
The second day
I didn't mail the letter
I blamed the birds,
the loud, metallic
chirping of cardinals
warning me
that more words
were not always
the answer.
The third day
I didn't mail the letter
I watched our son sleep,
gurgling bubbles
with his pursed lips.
The fourth day
I didn't mail the letter
coffee tasted bitter
on my tongue.
The fifth day
I didn't mail the letter
I remembered I needed
cream, the vast variety
in the grocery store
a wall of
faltering love.
The sixth day
I didn't mail the letter
I drove by
the post office
on our way home,
the lobby a lullaby
of light.
The seventh day
I didn't mail the letter
I lugged your chair
to the curb.
It was gone
by the time
the sun breached
the back yard.
The churn of river
calmed. I forgot
what I was
going to say.