Return

...Letters to the dead fall behind headboards

when weeping overcomes us, sweeping,

are lifted free, clearing away pennies and spoons – 

leftover utensils, touchstones for the woman

whose withholding husband can no longer hear her,

sharp pen on parchment.

The cheek, when caressed, remembers shorthand,

            insertion of a comma to catch

            overdue breath. The dead answering

            when we least expect.

Their whispers arrive as instruction –
return to sender – I adore you. We remember

salty, sweet, adhesive stamps against our

rough tongues; with trust,

            we open the metal mouth,

            drop the envelope,

            watch it slip down its dark chute. 

Excerpted from "Return", The Shape of Caught Water

available from Red Mountain Press

or directly from the author (505.670.4327)

http://redmountainpress.us/