It's been 24 years, that's
more than 312 moons
since I loved you.
I've known so much love since then. My life
has had its troubles, but it's been good.
And yet still I sometimes dream of you.
Unanswered questions.
Childhood dreams by the wayside.
We are older now
but you are a piece of my heart that stays young.
One of my extreme pleasures of childhood,
was receiving something in the post.
A letter from a penfriend on scented printed paper,
telling of adventures in her life at the local swimming pool or beach.
Sometimes it was a card, with 50p sellotaped inside. A present from my Gran.
When I was 12 I adopted a Shetland pony,
his name was Midge I think.
They’d send me photos and a letter three times a year,
Sometimes even stickers.
I remember thinking that it must be amazing being a grown up; getting letters every day.
Cheques.
I imagined getting cheques in the post.
I don’t know why.
I still picture myself getting cheques,
they never come.
How disappointing it is to discover
as the years go by
that the penfriend letters have disappeared.
Cards with enough coin to buy myself sweets and treats never come,
and instead my letter box is filled with demands and errors
that someone else has made, that is shit that I have to sort out.
It is offers of credit cards I can’t afford
And angry letters from a psychotic mother-in-law.
The fear is there,
every day when I open that box.
How very disappointing.
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