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Such a Terrible Thing.

That would be such a terrible
Thing she said seeing morning
Come through the window like
Some peeping Tom if he was to
Write and say he didn’t want to
Meet and that he never loved
Me at all or indeed in the first
Place that it was all just pretence
And she waited each day for his
Letter to come saying precisely
That saying what she thought a
Terrible thing written in his neat
Hand with that hard pushed down
Period at the end of the last sentence
And with the absence of those crosses
Of kisses at the bottom of the page
And she lifted her head to the day
Coming through her window wondering
If the mailman would be late or if
Maybe he was on his way and maybe
He knew what the letter would say
And was on his way to deliver like some
Ancient messenger with news of some
Raging war or battle lost and it would
Be a terrible thing she thought if he did
Say those things if he did write them down
And she didn’t know how she would cope
If he did wasn’t sure if she could keep her
World intact wasn’t sure she could cling
On each morning as the sunlight seeped
Its way through to her room and touched
Her bed and skin and head maybe she
Thought he’ll say he loves me and write it
In his fine words and hand with those kisses
Like birds in flight at the bottom of the page
Otherwise she said it would be a terrible thing
For the traitorous two-faced mailman to bring.

poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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