A wrong mail,
a cyberspace foul-up. Happens.
A mail meant for another austere, his austere,
A delicate missive on scented winds
mis-mailed with an extra initial
Sits proprietarily in my mail box.


I read, first slowly, line-by-line
a half-smile, in-the-gut envy
words you’ll never say.
“I smile when you do, breathe when you will it
Miles apart, but our hearts race as one
awake to your sunshine touch, atremble
giddily joyous, tearily grateful
each moment a dream, a dance, a prayer…”
A delicate missive on scented winds


“A wrong mail…”
“to whomsoever it may concern”, I write.
You love her, child
like an emerald rainbow, like a mother, like gravity,
the exploding universe, gasping breath
a sobbing smile, existence?
I want to ask.
“just be very happy, all the very best” I say instead.
This stranger latched on to words unsaid.
“keep the faith” he shot back,
“ I don’t know, but just keep the faith.”