The Ink, Black and Wet

Anyone still write letters?

Forgive Me

I once
wrote
you a note
filled
with good
things,
a song,
three blades
of grass,
and a memory
I have since
forgotten,
but the ink,
black and wet,
smudged
the white page
as the air
grew dark
and the morning
seemed so far away.

———————————-

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Handwritten.”

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3 thoughts on “The Ink, Black and Wet

  1. That’s a sad poem for two reasons. First, people aren’t writing hand-written notes since the invention of computers and texting. And second, people are almost incapable these days of writing in long hand. If they’re lucky, they can print.

    I’m still a letter writer. A LONG letter writer. And am constantly sending out notes. I’m afraid it’s getting to be a lost art. But there’s just something about a beautiful piece of paper that you can touch and smell and read again and again. Like a good book. I have boxes and boxes full of letters and cards folks have sent over the years. They’ll get thrown out when I die, but they are certainly a treasure to me now.

    Like

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