on a letter long expected

on receiving a letter

— b. ferro —

the post comes once a day, and once is enough. i wait. i make the tea. i wait again. when at last the small envelope arrives, i set it on the table, unopened, by the cup — and let the room agree, for an unhurried hour, that the news has finally come.

field note · reader ferro is said to have left a real letter on her windowsill for thirty-one days before opening it. she said the poem was an apology to the sender, and to the letter.