waiting for letters

               the wind carries with it the letters of loved ones far from home.
                                                                      -- anonymous


she lies there-- waiting, wanting for the wind
to brush the long hair of the weeping willow;
to brush her hair, her face, her lips,
her breast, the nape of her neck.  
lying there,

she thinks of the thoughts and the placement of
those thoughts; the transportation of those thoughts onto plain,
ordinary college ruled paper, or sometimes some paper
layered in a pad (adorned with lavish, created flowers).  
she lies there thinking, thinking in her secret silence

about the words she wrote down upon thoughtful letters-- 
letters sent to him; letters that spoke of longing and
the hope of longing no more.  
letters that wrote out love in soft, warm tones,
and caused the bleeding of ink off paper with

his tears of acceptance
(leaving only the imprint of her feelings
embedded in the wood pulp fibers).  
she wonders: does he wait too? does he wait for her letters--
brought by the wind, delivered upon morning dew?

does the wind travel to where he is?  does he write too?
she waits, but the wind never seems to come.  
she lies there,
sometimes for days, other times only a moment,
waiting for the wind to bring her letters.  

they never come though.  and so, she continues lying there--
waiting; every day 
she waits for the wind to muss her hair
and rustle the leaves of the weeping willow.  
she waits for the sweet smells of the meadows

and perfumed flowers that populate his world, just beyond her.  
she lies waiting for the foreign sounds of laughter and joy
that frolic through his world, just beyond her.
she lies there craving his hungered kiss--
lips so soft and wanting, puckered just out of reach.  

she lies longing for a second chance.  
and she lies there,
listening for that lone familiar voice
that has been batted about by the wind
(undelivered for far too long).  

she lies there, waiting for the wind to bring her letters.

Reviews

[KimLott]

This poem has no silly. No insincere. No screw around-ery. While i appreciate the levity in so so much of modern poetry, your style and sincerity is refreshing and appreciated. I would guess there is a lot of time into this piece. Not that I do not LOVE the subject matter and imagery, which you pull off beautifuly.
Nicely,
creatively,
hard-workingly,
no easy-ways-out,
done.

[Coyote Poetry]

Poem is so good. I like the feel and movement of this poem. It is like whisper in the wind. The soft but powerful lines made me wish to read many times. Complete poem is pure art. I love your poetry. Thank you.
Coyote