Dear Elise

I held the letter in my hands;
the words were in English, 
but the handwriting was the German Kurrentschrift 
that you learned in childhood.
I would recognize it anywhere.

It was neater than I remember—
your thoughts always rushed ahead,
words were left out and some misspelled,
because even on a good day,
English grammar isn't easy,
especially when you've taught yourself
by reading comics in the newspaper.
But your meaning was clear.

The salutation may have been
the formal, Dear Elise,
but the letter was filled with words
of love and pride,
seasoned with a scattering of family endearments
that only you could say without feeling silly.

I held the letter in my hand,
and ran a finger over words you had written.
The connection brought tears 
that fell on the page,
and smudged the ink.

But your words were not lost,
they were written on my heart.
When the morning sun 
broke through the curtains,
I knew you would be with me always.

~Elise Skidmore ©2024