In Five Years From Now, Where Will You Be?

Anthony Hammill

January 2022

Your postcard took such an adventure.

Riding Coach Class on the back of a

40 year old rusty mail truck.

And I tear open the envelope, and

Ignore the snowfall I inadvertently created.

Rip out the proclamation you made:

“I’m happy to write to you again”, you began.

“I’ve noticed the clouds seem angrier,

And the rain seems harsher.

The land is still as bland as ever,

People see you on the street,

But they don’t see you”.

It was totally unexpected.

Like when your in-laws tell you

That they’re visiting tomorrow.

I can’t help but feel bitter

Five years ago, you left to find yourself

But life couldn’t find you back

Or maybe life saw you on the sidewalk,

And out of pity, or cruelty,

It threw a quarter by your side.

He knows it’ll never be enough.

I’m sorry the world let you down,

How your job didn’t pan out.

I miss your letters, they were happy.

I know why they seem so dreary.

I see the bus ticket in your hand.

You’re resisting it though, why?

Grey clouds won’t do you any good.

I hope you come home soon.