I am writing to you
from this side of life,
though I know your answer will only be
in birdsong
or the autumn breeze
in the cedar boughs.
Longing for word
in faded ink,
written in your strong hand
or a picture postcard
from the other side-
‘Wish you were here.’
I await your reply
Going thru your desk, I find
the note you wrote
on the day I was born
and I know the longed for missive
has arrived.
postage paid