to picture

if only you'd write me a letter
a real letter
like you used to do before
we started emailing everybody
before email made it too convenient
for you to write me at all
i'd surely mail a letter back
with handwritten words to describe
an image of that light
from that closet
you remember
the one with the crooked door
slightly open, always
often unsought when we played
not like now, here
you wouldn't remember
along an edge where that certain line
vibrated obscure and half-glowing
a beam so faint but lyrical
almost bouncing, fretful
went round and round and was
very nearly imperceptible
a subtle glory
it was warm, a baby's soft chin, a cheek
nudging itself against
fallen blankets of auburn hair, yours

J.H. Lee '09