An old poem, dug up by its current caretaker, an old friend and the brother of an old best gal-pal i hung around a lot when i was at my most poetic. I wrote this one in the early nineties.
I dedicate this to you. Yes, you.
each life a letter,
under an indigo envelope;
greeting, answering, asking, saluting
each other
we can not be more than what we are:
words,
on a cosmic paper,
yet every word a world of meaning;
great varieties of influences
translated by the Great Receiver;
you, me, someone else, or… god?
every printed character
as deep
as the black ocean at midnightto you, my friend,
i write the longest letter
of my soul:
love.
