Postscripts On Love

so far away…P.S. and again…P.S.S. the wanderer must, forlornly, leave it at P.S.S.S. before she realizes he is crazy, crazy in his love for her. he misses her kisses and hugs, having said so, from a so and so bum, from the one so in love with grandma, he feels he can never measure up. history tells another story, writes another letter, if you will. i’m blessed to traipse and trespass where i would not have been invited just short years ago. the treasure chest passed from Grandma to my late Aunt to her Son who graciously offered a gift…the gift being love letters - wasn’t expecting the lovely chest it was in. it was either bought or made by my grandpa who passed away when i was two. around forty-two or so, i was told i was my grandpa’s favorite, but not so… that was his love Tessie, forever…so long ago. P.S. my kids don’t get it, not the chest… P.S.S. the letters P.S.S.S the romance, like i do, like he did and he did say i do i do i do - well for that last part that was my other grandpa. i live in the midst of a fairy tale with romantic bookends. 7/3/2023