F, F

I got your letter in the mail yesterday.

You told me —

 your feelings, your thoughts.

 your poems, your memories.

Included a photograph of how you look now.

I see your son, he looks just like me.

I wish I hadn’t moved so far away.

I wish we didn’t part.

I wish for so many things.

We could forget, we could forgive.

But I don’t know if I could, with Franklin being there.

© 2008 David Greg Harth

08.12.04.01:38:17@130BklnNYC