The elderly women she stooped
Waiting at the letter box for a letter
Which always failed to come.
It was an imaginary letter
This one letter she wanted.
A love letter from someone she knew.
A person she loved in her life,
Who lived near her, inside.
But in her mind she knew it would
Not say enough.
Not feel who she was, her kind.
Not rejected but unknown.
A life unknown but for glimpses.
When a friendly face at the bus stop
Noticed in her smile a direction.
She understood this to be the truth
For most of us.
And comforted by such thoughts
Returned to the daylight.

Love Mary ***