The Imaginary Letter
A phantom postman passed my way
while I was thinking of you today.
He handed me something that wasnít quite there.
An imaginary letter, which is really quite
I took it from his empty hands,
while standing upon now shifting sands,
and fumbling fingers soon revealed
this imaginary letter wasnít even sealed.
I opened nothing very wide
and discovered even less inside.
The penmanship was very keen,
so small and faint, it couldnít be seen.
The scent was sweet as I recall.
So sweet in fact, there was none at all.
Far into the dark and gloomy night,
I read the words you didnít write.
But at the end I found your name,
and like an eternal flame,
love lingers yet,
from the letter I didnít get
Brother William T. Foster, Florence, Arizona