In Seasoned Breath. A poem by Mark Burrow

Unposted letter, an autumn leaf
Laying dormant in hibernation.
Handwritten words isolated
Waiting to be read in seasoned breath.

Clocks spring forward; times brings light,
Envelope addressed, stamped, posted.
A leaf blossoms, scribes words, waves
In the wind. A flag of celebration.

A letter waits on springtime doormat;
You will read. You will cry. Now reply.


Mark Burrow is a poet and playwright originally from England and living in southern Spain. His poetry has been published in the UK, Ireland, France, USA, and has been translated into Russian.

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