I kept the postcard that you sent to me,
but that is all that is reminding me,
there is no more of you to find you in,
there’s another now getting your flowers.
I’ve counted hours that you spent with me
and about now you’ve seen her more than me.
We had our ending. You a new begin.
What now is yours and hers, once all was ours.
The card was sent from where we once made love,
reminder that all this was not enough,
that’s how I felt about it anyway.
Was it a sign that you remembered some of it?
I shall not frame the card but keep it safe
in a drawer, unseen like an unloved waif.
The card is dear but came with some delay.
I paid a fee. You had not stamped it.