This is my letter to you whom I love.
Not a plea for your attention or care,
or commitment. Consider it a glove
of ermine softly touching your rich hair,
your smooth face, your tender breast to feel your
heartbeat, quickening like inspiration.
Consider it the Muse’s deep whisper,
her breath powerful as birth’s sensation,
words lifting you to Olympus, beyond
Olympus to the universe. Believe me
when I say I love, when I smile, so fond
of your smile, your laugh a crystal chime, free
as forest breeze. Emily wrote a letter to
the world. But I write this letter to only you.
Roger Armbrust
August 13, 2020
