Copyright 6/22/00
Each day at two, he makes that walk
To breathless for even small talk.
He opens the letter box hoping it is there,
A letter from his love, oh so fair.
He stares without a word at the emptiness inside,
Wondering if she would still be his bride.
The next day he repeats the trip
And the results can be seen in the set of his lips.
No letter, two days in a row,
Is there someone else, he has to know.
Several scenarios play through his mind
Twisting this way and that like a malicious vine.
It eats at his very soul
Until he can take it no more and calls home.
She is there and pours out her heart
About how awful it is being apart.
Together, they cry there on the phone,
And he swears it won't be long until he is home.
He explains how her letters helps him get through each day,
Here at this place so far away.
How each letter brings a little piece of home
Reminding him he is not alone.
He promises to write her every day
And from her, he will not stray.
Faithful and true until the end,
Making the trip to the P.O. Box again and again.
Trips, sometimes two per day
Just in case her letter came late.
Each trip, a prize to be had
Whether there or not is good or bad.
He knows she is waiting there at home,
His letters and hers making them less alone.
Nice poem, loved it much! I understand this, mail call in boot camp was the only good thing there! LOL Good post!
Absence does make the heart fonder huh, Ferrell??... I could really feel u speaking from your heart, as i read down this poem....' It must have been very painful for u... I suffered much too, during my own boot camp...but i had my phone with me...Smilesz.
I liked this one a lot, reminds me a bit of my husband when we have had to be apart for a length of time.