A Little Remembering

from the old trunk at the cellar
he finds again
her old letter
telling him where to meet
her

the time and the
lovely mood for that day
all contained on a scented paper

the words written
on blue pen

the strokes well
made like
the tendrils of
the honeysuckle
that blooms so well
during summer

he did not go
and it was the last time
that she ever saw
him.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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