Too Little Love

Location

The farmer awoke to an early morning glow

As his colorful friend fluttered about squawking hello.

Adjusting to the sunlight, he grinned, removing his white bed sheet-

Revealing his PJ’s-Stretched quickly and shuffled to his feet.

Under the morning glow, beaming through the skylight

His face was flawless, young, and just so bright.

Locks of glossy, golden-brown waves fell past his forehead

Hovering over fine arched brows, as he tidied up his king-sized bed

And his eyes- a deep mixture of cocoa and a hazel hue-

Stared intently on the bed’s grand size…that was usually meant for two.

“Hello-hello!” squawked his feathery fellow-fluttering about

“Good morning,” huffed the farmer, refraining to shout.

Breaking from his rapt focus, he firmly stood

His deep voice trailed into the bathroom, “Mail please, if you would,”

“Mail-Mail!” Familiar with the command, the parrot exits into a hallway

Across a flight of stairs, to the dining area, and up a chimney, to start the day.

Through a hole in the chimney pot, the parrot emerges with new shades

But soon flaps back into its green and reds, and the smoky-gray color fades.

Across 12 acres of land, swelled with vegetation, the parrot flies

Under quiet, cloudless, dimmed, pink-orange skies.

Following a grassy-outlined gravel path, towards an iron-gate

And descending to a tattered mailbox, the parrot perches atop to wait.

Now wearing only checkered boxers, towel in one hand, hair mildly wet,

The farmer struts about in his kitchen with a cup of coffee, breakfast not yet set.

He sits at the empty table quietly as he takes occasional sips

From his caffeinated drink, as his mop of dark hair steadily drips.

And trails of water run down his nape, to his broad shoulders and backside,

Abruptly, his feathery fellow swoops into the kitchen, with various envelopes inside

Its beak, and spits them gently on the kitchen table, squawking- “Mail for Jak!”

“Thank you, now leave.” And the parrot does, as the farmer browses through his envelope stack.

Grocery coupons, advertisements, pamphlets, and the occasional bill…

Tearing through the weekday envelopes was not such a thrill

But those dark hazel eyes locked-on a familiar sight

A small envelope inscribed in pen, no stamps, and plain white.

Leaning back in his chair, seeming aloof, letting out a sigh

He rips through the envelope, muttering under his breath “Again…why?”

He reveals a folded letter on notebook paper, “Oh what does this woman need!?”

Rolls his intense dark hazel eyes, and begins to read

“Oh Jak, My beloved Jak. Please reply to me.

I have waited for you and only you, because I really want you to see

That the love I have for you now is far from your good looks

It is pure, from the heart, one that can only be described in books.

Oh the guilt I felt while in another’s hand

Aches my body to the point where I cannot stand!

Jak, to have you again by my side

Will erase all the pain from the times I have cried

Alone without you! This is the darkest part of my life

Where I have dreamt of you holding me, ending this strife.

I cannot think of any another man who has fed me that delight

As you did while we were together, creating memories day and night.

I hurt you Jak. I am truly sorry for all that pain

Please reveal to me your feelings- reply to keep me sane.”

Clearing his throat, shuffling out of his chair, the farmer folds the letter as it came

Walks into the living area towards his fireplace, and tosses it into the pile of her shame

That was numerous similar letters which overflowed, ready to ignite.

“Reveal to you my feelings? Oh how easy it is to write.

Love that is pure? From the heart? Is that what you carry now?

 After breaking mine repeatedly? Please tell me how

Your heart is so divine, so textbook, so pure.

Oh the sadness, the misery I had to endure

Seeing you with another, smiling so sweet

Like you would do with me, when our hands would meet.

Oh Laura, after all these months, why are you not sane

With every other man? I was hoping that would ease your pain.

And if you wish to apologize, then come see me here

Our addresses are not very far, but very near.

I have left you behind, and once more I will say

Yes I did love you, in the past, but not today.”

The farmer opens a cupboard, pulling out a notebook and a pen

Sits on his sofa, leans back, thinking about now and then.

“Oh Laura, I do forgive you with all I have inside.”

He opens the notebook prepared to write, no feelings to hide.

“Dear Laura, it is Jak. I have received all that you have sent.

I do accept your apology, and forgive you, with my full hearts content.

Though, my feelings for you have drained, and I will not return

To your side like you want. Oh I know you deeply yearn

For my embrace and my affection, that I only had for you.

For the passion and the love, that is only meant for two.

I did love you once, but to love you twice

Is what my heart cannot take. It will only suffice

To remind me of the same agony and the same pain

And I know you understand that I was in vain.

But forget all that! I only want you to be free

From the guilt and sorrow that you feel because of me.

I forgive you Laura, so please forgive yourself

And do not be depressed-for it is bad for your health.

I hope you find sanity while reading this letter

And hope with all my heart, that you do get better.”

The farmer is now dressed in overalls and combat boots, with an envelope in his hand

He heads outside, under the sun’s beaming heat, making his way across his land

Towards his mailbox, as his feathery, fluttering friend trails.

Reaching the destination before him, the parrot lets out a few wails

Surprising the farmer. Squawking “More mail! More mail Jak!”

The parrot is perched atop the box, waiting for another stack

Of mail to be given. But when the farmer meets with his friend

He holds out his hand, and the tropical bird flutters onto the end

Of his index finger. The farmer hands the letter to his bird

Whispers “To Laura, send.” terse, without another word.

“Laura! To Laura!” and the colorful bird takes off into the sky

With that familiar name ringing, envelope in its beak, soaring high.

The farmer sighs with relief, running his hand through his now dry hair

That glistened of golden brown waves under the sun, and early morning air.

Back to the farm he went, face bright, pristine, and glowing

Because now he can work day-to-day, heart free, knowing

That he has welcomed forgiveness, in his spot of sorrow

And is open to new love for today and tomorrow.

 

 

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