Unopened Letter

A letter came a week ago.
It's mutely resting between
the potted ivy and car keys
marking time on the table
in the foyer.

It's unopened, of course,
but I know what it says -
I just can't make myself
read the words.

I know they're angry.
I know they're designed to ask
in yet one more way
for what I don't have to give.

I've walked by it
a thousand times,
even held it a few.

Maybe if left unread
the words will somehow change
and say what I need most to hear.

by C.J. Heck

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.