Letter From war II
You’re blown by the wind
Like a featherweight cotton,
Your eyes are half shut sometimes
Like you’re lying about liking it,
Your hair you throw back
not only For its beauty,
but also for the feel of the west wind
that kisses your neck up to your face
You’ve allowed your robe to flow in that wave,
Your pure woven robe made from the finest of cotton
by the hands of the best weaver
Lucy if you ever read this letter,
please don’t blow away,
Don’t go neither with the wind nor its whisper
Except it whispers my love to you.
2014
