April 9, 2014

 

 

I read something only yesterday             

that made me think of you.

Today I received four photographs;

the writing on the envelope, I knew.

The snaps devoid of people;

one being of a dining table

laid out for Sunday lunch

whilst another had an empty sofa

near a vase with tulips in a bunch.

A third was of a large picture

hanging over a kitchen sink bowl.

The fourth, of course, contained

the window to your soul.

There was nothing written

on the reverse sides,

nor even a letter attached.

But I knew instinctively

you’d read the same article

and thought of me, and the

photo’s despatched.

The feeling was uncanny,

and proved to me once more,

that keeping in touch mentally

is as good as banging on any door.

 

  

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