Letter Twenty One

Dearest you,

 Wherever you are –

 If walking further seems too far,

and your face is cold

from passing trains

(a screech of the track,

terminal, but sweet

somehow with new refrains)

 or bleakly starched

from the hot tread of

one by one by one

across a continent

desperate to be old

but still so young

I see you,

I hear you,

I whisper to you:

We need you.

And when we know this…

(we have asked you to wait

in the no-place

too long)

we will kiss you

and know you

as us.

With all the resting hearts

of above,

me.

 

Joe Murphy, London, Writer

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