MY MAILBOX AND ME

In 1965, I mailed the first

Of what seemed to me to be

1,000 cards and letters,

though mine were not marked “Free”.

Mine were not marked “Fly It”

All of mine were paid for,

Stamped with love and loneliness

While you were at war.

Mine contained some photographs,

And poems that I wrote,

Cartoons cut from newspapers

And each contained the hope

That you were doing well

Although so far away ~

It seems to me, in looking back,

I mailed something every day.

That old mailbox and I

Became great pals, you see

I visited each and every day;

It was always there for me.

Sometimes I said nothing

In those pages that I sent

(each letter spritzed with perfume,

because you liked the scent.)

Other letters held big news

Of family, friends and home;

Some were short, and some were long

Sometimes, I felt alone.

I’ve got pictures that my brother took

Putting letters in the slot ~

I sent more cards and letters

Than I ever got;

That’s the way it always is

I really didn’t mind ~

That’s the way it’s always been

For the one who’s left behind.

And your letters?

I traced each blue-penned word

With a gentle hand

And imagined I could

reach right out

And touch you in that land.

I put them beneath my pillow

I slept with them at night;

On the days that letters came

The day was very bright.

That old blue mailbox

Became my dearest friend

It was my one and only link with you

Until the very end…….

Pen pals and a husband

Boarded planes for Vietnam;

Now, my son has sent “Free” letters

And I’m an ArmyMom.

©Christina  January 1998/Revised September 2007