Your e-mails from before
that I never saw
that you swear you sent then
come haunting my in-box
they drift up, one after the other
arriving like guests
arriving like ghosts
who could not make it on the night of,
- though they were expected,
though they promised, and
confirmed -
they could not even put in an appearance.
but they are so prompt now
and every year after,
on the anniversary of the party
1 comment:
I dunno. I think the rhythm is a bit off on this one. I mean usually I can fairly easily fall into a rhythm reading your poems, but not on this one.
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