I wrote you a letter
and postmarked it
from London
scribbling your address
in the States
across pretty stationary
and inside I said our friendship
reminded me of the chip of a brick
on the corner of a building
broken
never to be fused again
but still so close to home
and I pictured summer
schoolhouses
vacant of children and teachers
left in heat and stagnation
ruminating about the arithmetic
and history
and it may be because I ruminate
about our history
the way it all added up
and divided
I envisioned this
but when I think of you
I feel the fall
wet orange and brown
my favorite season
©Julie Bolitho.“postmarked,” Poem. The Offbeat: Tell Me Everything. Michigan State University Press: Vol. 7 (Spring 2007), p. 96.
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