Mail Call
I need fresh flowers each morning
To make me a bouquet.
The note you sent a week ago,
The words have blown away.
I need a smile to feed me,
I need a thot to wear,
The faint perfume of happiness
With every breath of air.
The note you sent a week ago,
The words have worn away.
No letter came this morning
Sharp with the breath of May,
Where your heart walked today.