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Below are poems written by poet
Monterey Sirak. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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Words slanted across the brittle yellowed paper.
Faded ink in the perfect loops and precise dainty dots
of a time when proper handwriting mattered.
A faint scent of tea rose still lingered in linen weave.
My darling Frank, I hope you are well.
I am fine, but sad for want of you on our first anniversary.
I felt the baby kick today, a tiny tender flutter.
I pray the Navy gives you leave for the birth.
Your little sister went to her winter dance with a dashing escort.
She is turning into quite the young lady.
We shopped for her dress, found a perfectly lovely
saffron colored chiffon, with a modest neckline, of course.
Her date gave her a pale yellow orchid corsage.
His hands shook as if he had palsy when he pinned it on her.
Mr. and Mrs. Beason at the market asked after you,
and said you are in their prayers.
It amazes me how fond they are of you after
spending your youth stealing apples from their displays.
The senior high basketball team lost at state.
It still seems odd to see someone else wearing your number
on his jersey. It feels like only yesterday it belonged to you.
The number seven. Seven days of loneliness each week.
Seven months you have been away.
Seven times past infinity is how much I love you.
I try to keep busy knitting baby clothes.
I have lunch with the ladies on the block twice a week.
And I am sitting in our pew at church each Sunday
wondering if you have the comfort of attending church too.
How is Hawaii? Warm, sunny, and breezy?
We are having a cold snap. Three inches of snow fell last night.
I know life aboard the Arizona is hard,
but keep your head up and your heart strong.
You won’t be in Pearl Harbor forever.
Love always, Dottie
December 6, 1941
Our state poetry days are coming up. Last night I pulled up the contest list.
For one, the subject was The Letter. I grabbed my paper and a pen and held
on for the ride. The poem pretty much wrote itself after the first stanza in less
than 30 minutes. I was amazed at the story that formed on the page. I guess
Dottie, whoever she was, really wanted to be heard.