Air Mail

Box of nothing Expect nothing, you said

and nothing is what

arrived this morning

in the first post.

 

Nothing. Enclosed in a box

ten inches by ten by ten

all wrapped up in used

brown paper and salvaged string.

 

Expect nothing, you said

Not a penny if you marry

that spender of misfortunes

that good for nothing, nothing.

 

I opened the box expecting nothing

and nothing is what I found –

besides perhaps a faint echo

of your last laugh let out.

 

And the smell of camphor,

old hats and dusty attics, and yes –

being right about him –

that distinct whiff of righteousness.

 

 

 


Acknowledgement of a borrowed opening. This poem owes its opening two words to Alice Walker’s ‘Expect Nothing’. I promise to pay them back one day.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please feel free to comment in any language, but note that comments will be published in English. We offer no warranty as to the accuracy of the Greyhares translation!

 

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.