Old Address Book Yellow, dilapidated, bound book Holds lives I once lived. Names in pencil, crossed out three times With new addresses, phones, and name changes. I see ghosts of friendship, old relationships From across oceans and continents. Those who have been important enough For me to write them letters. Long handed, stories and intimacies. I cherish this unruly address book With snips of addresses clipped from envelopes. Each name evokes a story A hug, a sense of knowing.
For those who write letters, send cards, by mail, the old address book is our history. Find me at http://www.abberolnick.com
