In a plastic, purple folder.
With important documents, passports and batteries,
Every postcard and letter received.
One little note
All those years ago.
A key to a shared past,
happy and making promises.
Breakings of words and truths,
stored between the words of old friends and new.
The shape of the letters
The neatness of words and clarity of thought.
In spite of years gone by.
Soft and gentle and bold and promising.
Tender and kind.
Weighed like gold before being put to paper
Valued ever more.
Slicing through small spots of sorrow
With the cunning precision of a skilled butcher
Knowing the tender joins of the heart.
In a purple, plastic, folder
Hidden between every note
Lies a little letter.
Lies an avalanche of memory.
NB – An exercise with old writing. This was a prose post written 2 years ago that I never quite liked enough to post, and I’ve gone through to update it a bit for my current style…