Thank You Note

April 14 2016

The thank you note

on creamy paper

in careful cursive

in all its formally worded grace

arrived unexpectedly.

Handwritten

in her best school-girl script.

The trip to the mailbox.

The man who emptied it.

The sorter at the processing plant

who caught it falling through the cracks.

The postman

walking door-to-door

on his appointed rounds.

All the hands

through which it passed,

the fullness of time

its journey occupied.

The substance

of something held.

Even the trace of smell

when I brought it to my nose.

and inhaled deeply.

Who knew scent

adhered to paper so avidly.

I imagined molecules of skin

still intact,

the residue

of her glistening tongue

sealing it shut.

The materiality of things,

when so much of life

has become virtual

and instantaneous.

And the esoteric physics

of touch;

like action at a distance,

her hand, in mine.