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No One Writes Letters: epistle

Dear reader: do you wonder what
the point may be in all of this?
Why do we bother keeping track
of who said what to whom and such?

On an entire stretch of sandy beach
we seek a single special grain,
imagining some magic quest
in which we play the hero’s role.

All the while, the soundtrack seems
to telegraph our every thought;
instead of showing what we feel,
we let the song push us along.

And in the end, what’s the use?
We focus on the world outside,
where what we do makes little mark
and when we leave, won’t miss us.

I’m writing you, because it seems
the sanest way to pass the time,
and share the world, our hopes and dreams.
You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.

So now, farewell, at least for now.
We’ll muddle through this mess, somehow.
So long as you and I both care,
there’s still a chance we’ll get somewhere.

30 May 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Published inLines

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