artwork: ralph murre
Found in an Attic:
World War II Letter
to a Wife
by Donal Mahoney
When I get home
things will be the same.
I haven't changed.
The sling
comes off the day
I get on the plane.
I'll be able
to cut the grass,
rake the leaves,
shovel the snow,
all the stuff I did before.
And every morning
in summer, fall,
winter and spring,
when we wake up,
I'll draw rosettes
with the tip
of my tongue
on your nipples,
await your orders to
bivouac elsewhere.
Nothing has changed.
I'm feeling fine.
We'll cleave again
~ first published in Eye on Life
