The Dear Johns
Saturday, December 1, 2007
When I was a little kidI thought Dear John letters were just that:
letters addressed to an imaginary person named John
that would never be sent
about things you wanted gone from your life.
I wrote a lot of them.
They said things like:
Dear John, I don't want celery in my soup anymore;
Dear John, I think the organ is tacky and want to take guitar lessons;
Dear John, I wish Leslie went to a different school;
Dear John, they call me Chiclets because of my front teeth.
When I was twelve,
I found out that Dear John letters were for leaving those once loved,
and I realized that I had forgotten love in my Dear Johns,
so I wrote my last letter:
Dear John, I love you;
and I folded the letter into a little box I buried in the yard
and then hid out at the ball diamond
to avoid my organ lessons.
(originally posted at Schmoetry)
I am a participant in Holidailies 2007.
Labels: the poetry
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5 comments:
Dude, I totally had to take organ lessons, too. Hiding out was not an option. My teacher's name? Mrs. Fruit. Recital Pic Yo Loved this one. :) For obvious reasons. post a comment ~ Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] ~ main page
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