A Letter Without An Address Poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo

your hand was unable to lift the paper
unreadable letters in the outdated script
fly the paper, fly my dear
hiding among the fragrance of roses
in the silence of the voice was chanting;
it's always immersed in the anchor
ships that wander away
far... far away
one day the ship was anchored
waiting is always the longing
the letters tucked behind the table
you hide well
quarter folded
no one knows

2012