The Message Poem by Reason A. Poteet
The Message
quatrain
Inbox is full – virtual junk
thirty today and still counting.
I long for something with meaning
for now, just junk mail is mounting.
I get replies; I get forwards;
I hope for something much better –
mail with one name in the TO: line
FROM: him, a private e-letter.
After much wading and waiting,
I can only with grit declare,
his message is quite manifest,
regrettably, it is not there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 10:40:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
