The Black Letters of Your Letters

The word that you uttered By me is heard, By feelings on face gets unfurled— An expression so mute Not easy to impute… Know not what makes it so endearing, Is it the promise of coming spring? …. ….. The black letters Of your letters Come to me with no such mask, They tell me things but not so ask, Come, all nude with nothing to hide, Staying put for long to reside, And then truth’s what I get to read, A whisper, nor a whine indeed, Every word read gets registered In me, be it a promising warm spring Or an autumn’s plundering long inning! Yet, I’d any day your face, In black letters where’s that grace? ____________________________________ Musings |12.12.2021| Free verse