It wasn’t until my housecleaner,
His insulin pump attached to his black
Stockings – to put him in touch with
His feminine side – handed me the

Orange carton of papers from the
Dusty attic, that I realized that I had
Kept all the letters received in the
Years 1956 to 1974.

I was tempted to pitch the lot of
Them when I saw my own mother’s
Handwriting on a few, and my sister,
Whom I had ignored too much

As older brothers do when they’re
Too busy and too important or too
******* in life’s joys and sorrows,
As if they just won the lottery.

But names kept popping up from
The past – names not to be ignored
Or forgotten – some were on tattered
Pages, others quite legible, all were

Loving memories of not-so-long-ago
Past loves, former friends, frenemies,
Many, alas, deceased – not with us
Now – the list goes on.

© Lewis Bosworth, 9-2017