Poem 56

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for W, upon receiving a returned letter

Where we Thought we might be Headed…

These are the things that didn’t make it through the mail:
                         Lifelines and telephone strings;
Chords that come and go with complacence;
         Commonplace apology formalities, fringing;
                                All the web worthy searches seizing time.
     It doesn’t fit four-cornered like we hoped it might.
                Especially since the envelope reads all too truly:
                           Attempted— destination not known. 


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