Dear Madam,

 

I hope that this letter may find you

(and glad that it never will)

Because you may never know

How beautiful you looked at Perkins Park

On November 9th

And the only thing that matched your radiance was the evening sun setting behind you

And how unfortunate it is

That both lights grow dim now

As if your hourglass figure was an omen

And as if the distant soft smile you had

resembles crescent moons to come

I know I don’t know you and may never will

The walk I took in the park that day

Meant nothing before or after

Except for the fact that I saw you once in that powerful moment

Then never again

Perhaps like the red park leaves that day

Your red hair has changed too

It could be fine that we never properly meet

(maybe that aesthetic moment can’t be recaptured)

But I write this in hopes that will reach either

The you in my head

Or the real you

 

Warm regards,