Misdelivered Mail
The scent of wet paper flops in my grasping hands.
Careful fingers tear mail open slowly to guard its contents.
A handwritten note from a woman I don't know
flows with sweet meanderings, too delicate to repeat.
Who is she that would lure a faithful wife's husband?
I trusted him with the strength of gold.
Torched like its making,
jealous flames leap my eyes to the return address.
I plan to confront this mistress for their heartless affair.
Quicker than anger surges, my eyes scroll to the middle,
squinting at the rain smudged ink....
Addressed to the neighbors, I shame my hasty accusations.
5-27-2020
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