The Neighbor

The Neighbor

In cryptic cursive he penned
words of gratitude
my cold heart
wondered at the knock
hid behind
on a cold and wintry day

I should wonder what he wants
when all he brought
was his  small note
an offering
and laid it by the door

words of thankfulness
I sit
with guilted
that I  would rest in vain
slow to do the same
pen a note of telling
how it is I feel
black pen on gilded cards
left staring at a
hand that cannot write
a few short lines of humble
I learned from him
the neighbor sent to me
with a shaky cursive hand
still fresh from loss and grief
who poured
into a 2×3
this kind response sat at my door
one day when I was covered up in grief

who taught him how to love the sky
at night, I found him staring
at it ablaze, in oranges and reds
I’ve seen him smile and stare
gazing heavenward
awash in grief
I weep at my
oh January finds me
in desperate need
to write a letter
release it from my cold and thankless heart
and had he used the mailbox
rather than my door
I might have missed the chance to
be shaken
by a simple act

I heard the screen open
slam and hit the door
awakened by my
the neighbor
in cryptic cursive, he penned
words of gratitude.


One thought on “The Neighbor

Now it's your turn. I am honored that you took the time to comment. Thank you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s