Her letter- a soft, whispered word in our ear,
a touch from a far to let us know she is near.
Each penstroke a smile, each word an embrace,
encourages with love, with mercy, with grace.
The folds on the page- the lines on her face,
remind us of one thing we'll take every place:
There is nowhere we'll go, no place on the map,
where love can't be carried by a Washington stamp.
1 comment:
crying.lots.iloveyou.
Post a Comment