Suggested Edit

by enemy

Posted to Poetry on 2004-01-13 14:11:00

Parent message is 581498
This is it:
The pen knife is my only tool now.
The lonely code carver, framed in a heart.
I see the letters, but…
In time the only thing that survives
Is the aspen that outlasted our affair.
Now this pen knife serves your words
By opening your letters in hope that
A little truth might flow.
Late at night, in a room lit by candles and muted TV
The pen knife has me conteplating mortality.
This pen knife my grandfather passed down to me
I will pass down to my son.
The son you will never have.