I threw away your letters.
Years ago, just like that.
The tight black swirls,
circles and strokes
filling fine sheets —
I would not see them again.
The last items I had left.
The dates. The phrases.
The things you said. Forfeited.
Snowflake patterns.
Leaf diagrams.
Crushed. Melted. Dissolved.
The flooding runoff
at the backed-up
street corner drain
collects it all.
Only the opening
of a strong seal far below
could allow that pool
of darkening rainwater
to run and drop away
between the slats.
If I were to recover
the lost key of the cursive,
I would in one instant
want back again what I saw
in the images
the hand traced out for me.
And would be denied
even the little
the letters kept of you
and be released
into nothing but more time.
In this tender poem tracing a lost love, the speaker holds on by letting things go…
- What does the speaker say happens to the letters he throws away?
- Whose letters do you imagine the speaker is referring to?
- How does the poem play on the double meaning of the word “letters”?
- What is it you imagine the poet would “want back again?” What did he see?
- “Letters” strikes an intriguing blend of matter-of-fact statement and metaphysical fantasy. How do these two modes influence the tone of poem? How could that be represented in a recitation?
- Write a poem about throwing away something that was given to you. Address it to the person who gave it to you. Explain to that person why you had to part with the gift.
Useful Links
Read an interview with Russell Thornton: http://prismmagazine.ca/2014/11/29/an-interview-with-russell-thornton/
Russell Thornton, “Letters” from The Hundred Lives. Copyright © 2014 by Russell Thornton. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
Source: The Hundred Lives (Quattro Books, 2014)