Saturday


This was written for me by a boy I once knew, in the summer, in New York. I found it on the old-wood slats of the floor, by the door of his apartment, when I awoke that morning. I remember running across 59th Street in the rain, afterward, in a grey silk Parachute suit, shoes off, with no umbrella, laughing into the downpour.
I wish I had been nicer to him at the time.
Youth is not always kind.

5 comments:

3continentfamily said...

precious...

Yoli said...

That is so touching! He had a poet's soul.

Geisslein said...

What a beautiful letter,what a beautiful post! thanks for sharing...

Micaela said...

I LOVE THIS!!! best thing i've read in a long time.

apriliniowa said...

No, youth isn't kind. Thank-you for commenting on my page...I'm sorry I didn't formally introduce myself...but I am a sucker for your blog. Your photo essays are absolutely lovely and this small fragment reminds me so much of my own youth. Thank-you for sharing. I'll keep an eye out for new photographs.