Tattered

Tattered like an old love letter Grasped too often in withered fingers Folded and unfolded in an effort to remember A long ago romance and those secret trysts Beneath bowers of summer flowers And too soon ended by elders Shocked and scandalized by a love They could not fathom and could not endure Existing in the shadows of unsanctioned socialties. The words in the letter are faded But what does that matter to the eyes Of the aged whose life has been tattered And torn and then reborn in the image Of what was patently proper in the minds Of the neighbors and then sent the carriage That carried her far from the arms of her lover And trysts beneath bowers of summer flowers In the long gone days of her youth.