Writing Letters - Original Poetry
Writing Letters
In a book of love letters
written centuries ago
I found a line you once wrote to me
and it startled me so badly
that I closed the book
replaced it upon the shelf
and avoided it for months.
It was a letter from a man
to his lady love
separately secluded in pastoral France
and I think of another letter you wrote
while I was in Luxembourg
in which you ended with the words
"Get to Paris at all costs,"
and I wonder
if the two
might be connected.
You loved my letters
my practiced penmanship
and humorous style
but it was to my sister
that my letters
were most creative.
Her favorite and mine,
a letter where on one page
I wrote every third line
until the page was full;
on another I began writing
on all four edges of the page
and spiraled inward.
Thirteen pages,
each different and unique
as I recalled for her
the mundane details of my days -
And then I got a computer.
And, despite my best intentions
promises made to myself and friends
I stopped writing letters,
replacing them
with infrequent cards
and impersonal printouts.
And even though
their content was much the same
they were devoid of much
of their former style
and personality.
And so it was
that we lost touch
and I was left behind
to seek you elsewhere.
I returned to that book one day
and though the words
of that long ago lover
still rang with your voice
they'd lost some of their sting.
(prior to) 28 Apr 2005
Cori MacNaughton
I am posting this poem in response to @carolkean's post here.
I had planned on posting it several hours ago, only to discover that, yet again, our satellite internet provider was down, despite our skies being entirely clear. Sigh.
Life is wonderful. And at 29 degrees Fahrenheit at the moment, due in part to our beautiful clear skies, I am very grateful that our heaters are working. All is right in the world.
And I would love to hear your take in the comments.
April Showers May - Day 92 - Daily Haiku
Raining, Still Raining - Day 91 - Daily Haiku
To the Lovely and Hilarious Dorothy Mae Powell - RIP. I love you and miss you.
Awaiting the Storm – Day 90 – Daily Haiku
Photos from Years Past – Day 89 – Daily Haiku
Claus Ogerman and Michael Brecker - In the Presence and Absence of Each Other (Part 1) - Music - Jazz
Wayward Guinea Pig, Part 2
A Friend is Upset – Day 88 – Daily Haiku
Wayward Guinea Pig – Day 87 – Daily Haiku
A Message from My 90-Year-Old Self to My Self Today
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All words and images are my own.
The photo at top is my mother's Eastlake writing desk, which I am currently in the process of making the focal point of my own writing-nook-in-progress. I took the photo this afternoon using my Samsung Note 8 smart phone.
The photo of our dog, Lolo, and our late cat, Miod, I took as they were cooperatively begging at the dinner table, despite our longstanding rule of not feeding them from the table.
You can see how much that deterred them both.
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Very poignant. (thats a cool word. I like unusual words. Bet you do too.) Indeed, our new world provides trade-offs. I can communicate with people I'd never in a million years have even met in far off places like Luxembourg, and the Maldives, or South Africa, but my sister in another state gets a txt msg. Oh, my...
And yes, I love cool and unusual words.
If you'd like some new ones, I strongly recommend books by Robertson Davies, a Canadian author and scholar whose books regularly send me to my dictionary, which is a rarity among authors these days.
And his books are wonderful meandering journeys among characters and places that you'll come to deeply care about before he is finished. Truly one of the greats, at least for me.
My favorite of those I've read is "Murther and Walking Spirits," which opens with a man being murdered by his wife's lover after walking in on them, whereupon he finds himself suddenly transported to a movie theatre, where he begins seeing scenes from his life and the lives of his ancestors play out on the big screen before him, with the man who just murdered him as his companion. Definitely not your standard fare.
He is a thinking person's author, occasionally makes you really work for it, but always it is a worthwhile endeavor, as his breadth of knowledge (he was a college professor) makes each book a joy, and a rare gem. I only wish he had written more.
I also recommend "The Deptford Trilogy," which brings three of his finest novels together into one volume; and "Ghost Stories," which is a collection of his shorter stories about ghosts. Great stuff all.
I'll check him out. Always looking for good authors to read. Thanks.
You're welcome!
He and Christopher Moore are the two authors I recommend the most often, because they are both outstanding.
Moore, if you're not familiar with him, is hilarious and delightfully twisted. His books are fast reads and an absolute blast.
Yeah, that sounds about right. I tried recommending "Love thine enemies" once, when my sister was on a hate-fueled rant on Facebook, and got unfriended for my efforts.
Ha! Much easier than actual discussion and working things out.
Pretty much.
I must say, though, that FB became instantly less stressful without all her negative posts.
I love her, but she can be hard to take, though I have little doubt she would say the same of me.
Well, obviously she suffered from OSHPS as a child. (Older sister hair pulling syndrome).
LOL - Thanks for the laugh! That MUST be it! ;-)
Beautiful poem! The impersonal electronic missives do leave a lot to be desired. I wrote a fiction story years before cell phones and PCs titled "The Last Letter Writer" about a man who wrote letters to all of his children. I lost the story on a hard drive when i separated from my exhusband! (Irony). :(
My home power was out and furnace last night again. Some of the apartment has electricity, some doesn't. We apparently have a fuse issue ( power surge maybe).
Ugh, sorry to hear of your power issues. I hope it is resolved quickly.
And double ugh, regarding your lost story, which I can relate to all too well. I spent a couple of months last year transferring all the data from my old laptop to a new hard drive, including the vast majority of my photos, naturally including every photo I took on our trip to Poland when I met Marek's mother and sister for the first time.
Then again, I actually lost that laptop on the train on the way there, when my backpack was stolen from our rail car on the train from Frankfurt to Krakow, which also contained my back up hard drive, and everything I had written from 1997 forward.
A few months later, back in the States, I wrote a song about forgiveness and letting go, and l literally that evening I received an email from the US Consulate in Krakow, letting me know that my backpack had been found on the same train it was taken from, and when I got it back, literally nothing was missing. Truly a miracle.
I still have my hard drive with the photos, and I have a book on computer forensics, so I am hopeful that I'll be able to retrieve my data one day. I've kept one of Marek's crashed hard drives for the same reason.
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