Open Letter ~ 1

Often I start a letter that I won’t finish
often
I talk to the sky
who smile back with clouds or face away
or with the trees
who would nod with leaves & branches in unison,
often I don’t know
why I write them,
except for
I have to
Like I breathe

I sent quite a few to you,
ones
I didn’t actually sit down to write
with a pen & paper:
but those breathes
I remembered
you with

You will find them
in the storm
kissing you,
whirlwind
messing your hair
but you’ll get them
one day

some day


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