I find this very deep and amusing since this is such an accurate description of writing down thoughts about life and love in the form poetry. Some things that was, some things that came to pass and others that have not yet come to be or will not ever be for that matter. That is what I read into this.

I guess the story of us is never finished until we are all gone. At least that's what I read in this prosetry of yours, today.

Ron

It is a tribute to the power of the written over the spoken word that having one and finally been written down enter into perpetuity to remain a reminder and memorial of what has been said. In the letters of the written word lies the spirit of their author in perpetuity.

A little haunting, in a manner most graceful and modest, this pulls at the threads that weave the fabrics of our stories written and then read long after we are gone. I especially like “The anxious pen scratches of so many starts?” — for in gathering the personal belongings of someone loved, it is often the letters, journals, diaries, that can be the best essence of a person. Also, “…enable today’s disturbance to discover. . .” I like how this whole piece is all questions, and that last line feels suspended for a long-lasting lift. ~~ djl