From a lost blanket

By Ashley Lepre

Dearest you,

It’s very true that after many days
that turned to weeks, than months, than years, we’ve gone our separate ways.

If fate is real, I’d like to steal a moment here to thank it.
Oh, what a life I’ve come to lead as just a knitted blanket.

The rhythmic beet of passing feet!
the mice and rats I chance to meet!
Pigeon droppings! Hot dog stands!
Angry drivers! Knock off brands!
Crowds of people by the herds!
Sagging jeans! Abrasive words!
A Broadway show! A Christmas tree!
See, every sight’s a sight to see.
Yes, Life is such a special treat
when you’re a blanket on the street.

But to this girl, should she be plagued by “where is he?'”s and “Why?”‘s:
It isn’t that I didn’t care, it’s that I hate goodbyes.

So when I fell, I didn’t yell; I didn’t make a sound.
and in a dainty, downward dance I drifted to the ground.

I hope she knows it’s not her fault. She wasn’t in the wrong.
Yes, she let go, but don’t you know, the wind, it played along.

The wind, although assertive, gave a soothing sort of sway
and swept me right upon its back and carried me away.

And so it goes. I hope she knows, the wind, it felt no greed.
It simply felt the time had come. The busy streets agreed.

And once I felt the warm cement I knew they both were right.
The lights! The noise! Unpleasant smells! Oh what a wondrous sight!

For, here I find I’m free to be, to think whatever thought,
to feel concrete beneath the feet I know I haven’t got.

I hope she knows I am not lost- I simply like to roam.
And when I do a thing that’s new, I feel the most at home.

I hope my words read true and clear- I hope she understands,
if by some chance this letter is delivered to her hands.

But if it doesn’t find her, still my thinning fibers know
she understands I miss her

The Blanket she let go