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More Letters

More letters found stuffed
Beneath his brown best shoes,
Which had yellowed with age.
Love letters with small crosses
For kisses at the bottom
Of the page. Words neatly penned,
Love spoken of, gifts thanked for,
Places seen, shared and remembered.
He was a dark horse, Mother said,
Never knew he had these, so many here,
Stuffed, forgotten or out of sight and mind.
Granddad had had some woman
On the go at some time and place
Years ago, before Gran, before
The whole circus of living had ended.
A photograph tucked between pages,
Some woman in old-fashioned hat
And dress and wide-open eyes.
Secrets hidden and kept, words
Upon words on pages, scribbled
By a hand now sure to be dead.
Best burn them, Mother sighed,
Nothing to be gained, best nothing’s said.

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