I remember birthdays with countless cards

A flooded post box choked with heavy envelopes

I would open them all one by one

Savouring the words they contained

Running my fingers over painstaking calligraphy

Recalling incidents

Rekindling memories that rose

Like water from a surface well.

The cards festooned my room for several days

Swinging and dancing in the breeze

From a temporary, woolen clothesline

Reluctantly taken down, lovingly preserved in large cardboard boxes.

Those days are gone.

Where and when they disappeared, it is hard to tell

Somewhere, the little girl grew and had to contend with the world.

Life is in flux never-ending and changes creep up unobtrusively.

Yes, the wishes come now – but are few and brief

Some, even abbreviated to MMHROTD

Oh how casual!

The post box is a dusty, neglected cubby.

Sometimes, though the little girl in me

Longs for the cards that hung and fluttered in my room

That spoke of love in ardent, earnest words.

The envelopes often held cards and letters--

Pages and pages of scented, handmade paper

 Scrawled delicately with quotes and budding poetry

In coloured ink of blue, turquoise and black

Sadly,

Those days are gone and will never be back.