War Zone
by Constance Brewer
Now
that you've gone
away
our relationship
has been committed
to paper,
entrusted
to strangers.
I unwrap
each letter as if
it were
the flag
of some underground
organization.
I imagine
you do the same.
6771
miles
and 10 time zones
wedged between us.
Our relationship
filters through
in bits and pieces,
a puzzle
to be reassembled.
.
8 comments:
context, PLEASE!
Lovely poem, but you've aroused my curiosity about who it's about.
I was reading the legacy project, and this is what came forth. It could also be about being stationed in another country, and the other half being far away... but I'm not telling. :)
Wow, Constance, these letters are a treasure. I so wish my late mother-in-law had not tossed the letters (long before we met) my late father-in-law wrote her when he was a WWII soldier and prisoner of war. Still, there has to be a story and some poems in their lives, even without letters.
A fellow PAD plodder!
6771 miles is such a precise number - is there a background to that?
Isn't that a great site? Very inspirational. Thanks for stopping by, Karen. Here's to PAD November!
Carla, measure 6771 miles from Wyoming and see what you get. :)
Wonderful poem.
My mom has all the letters that my dad wrote to her while he was in the army. How special. Sad, too, that today we no longer write letters. It's all text messages and emails. Hard to tie a ribbon around them.
Blessings from Costa Rica
kathie
Thanks. :)
I have letters my great uncle wrote during WWII, and he told me about letters he remembers from his uncles who served in the Civil War. Very interesting stuff.
In email, no one can see your lousy penmanship either...
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