Letters

 I miss the days of the Letter

The ones I'd get from my grandfather

Once a month I'd gleam with cheer

I'd run around re-tracing the words written

I'd tuck those words inside my memory

The sound of the postman's bells

The Jingle of the envelopes creaks

The joy of finding one that had my name

The waft of air and shaped wax

The touch of dried ink and postage stamps

In the days of instant chats and blue ticks

I was happy to be remembered even every few weeks

I miss the days of The Letter

When I would carefully think of what to tell him

Maybe I should omit that I got my ankle twisted

I weighed my words

I thought of the him before writing

My words were aimed at sending love

My words were hoped for bringing joy

In the times of Instant chats and video calls

I would cherish the photograph sent 

I'd remember the way the sunrays fell on the ground

The way my cousin winked an eye at the camera

The way my grandmother looks almost shy

I miss the days of the Letter

I wonder how we rushed from that

To days of instant chats and grief over blue ticks.