a box full of letters addressed to me by Ashley Rose
Lovelorn Poet in Savannah
The Cradle
There is a small box of love letters under
my bed; evidence of my youth and a time
when our hearts were all that mattered.
I am not nostalgic–although naturally like
most I sometimes dwell on the whys and
what ifs–and I am certainly not going to
pretend that I don’t have regrets, but as
I sit here on the edge of my bed, in the
silence that comes with evening and
cradles reflection, I think I am ready
to answer them.
Her Two Cents
Whether it’s a box of old letters tucked under the bed, a folder of unanswered emails the gaze returns to, or the sensation mid-way between heart and gut reminding us of intentional avoidances, the old saying holds true: You can run, but you cannot hide. Sooner or later we all need to come up with a reply, an answer, a decision.
