The Morning Mail

THE MORNING MAIL

“Was there a letter from Robin?”
She asks every morning,
I don’t know how to answer her any more.
She saw the telegram and the letter
from his commanding officer.
She knows; I know that she knows.
I tell her “No, no letter today, “
Sighing she goes back into her room,
and says, “I’ll have to scold him for not writing.”
Then she closes the door.

Tomorrow will be the same.
She will ask, all eager and expectant
She knows the truth, but must ask
because if she let herself say it, believe it,
know it, then Robin would be dead,
really dead, not coming home again.
and she could not bear that.
So again tomorrow she will ask,
“Was there a letter from Robin?”