Dec 12, 2011

Revelations from a stack of antique postcards

by Gary Glauber


I’m working now,

trying hard to save some money.

I’ll send what I can in the months ahead.

I miss you.

That Steppenwolf eight-track

jammed up the player

in my convertible yesterday.

Now the top is down, the weather’s great,

yet I can’t play anything.

We had a picnic. Weather was beautiful.

Wasn’t the same somehow with you gone.

No one can approach those chicken cutlets of yours.

Hope life is treating you well.

You crushed my heart in a hurtful way.

Yet you continue to affect me more than any other.

Why is life so cruel?

Paris in the springtime truly is a delight.

Small children play around the fountain.

The gardens are incredibly lush.

Nature is beautiful here, as is the architecture.

It all reminds me of you.

Moved into the new place. Small, but affordable.

That’s life on a budget. Write when you find the time.

You. Me. Destiny. Can’t you see?

Never made it to Woodstock.

Never served in Vietnam.

Seems I missed out on a generation

of experience. Can you forgive me?

The snowdrifts here are higher than my head.

The temperatures are so frigid that

when you breathe in, your nostrils freeze.

The February sky is bleak and gray.

And yet thoughts of you warm me.

How’s my little baby adjusting to life in the big city?

I understand you’re busy, but I miss the weekly phone calls.

Don’t forget about those who love you.

Oh, and your father sends his regards too.

After tonight’s cub scout meeting

It dawned on me that I’m not really cut out

for this kind of volunteering. Where others

are rah-rah, I’m definitely blah-blah.

But I did teach them to tie a square knot…

Perhaps no one noticed.

Every time I hear those variations on a theme

I’m reminded of you

And that time I came home to find you

practicing in the altogether,

wearing nothing but lipstick

and a knowing smile.

Found this card in some dusty drugstore

in the middle of nowheresville.

What it lacks in fancy it makes up for in heart.

If only you were here, you could transform

this lackluster place into paradise.

20,000 Frenchmen

can’t be wrong, they say.

Quel mec a volé mon pantalon?

Wish I knew more useful phrases

when traveling abroad.

Heard you weren’t feeling well.

Hope this little card helps

brighten your day. Feel better.

Still working, but finding it

increasingly hard to save.

I promise I’ll send something soon.

Love and miss you much.

My four-chambered heart

aches for you daily.

pumping a message to my brain

that says “Please come back.”

Holding you close

or just watching you sleep

I am struck by your beauty,

the odd feeling of pride it inspires,

and the comfort of having you near.

So much to see, so little time.

Postcards like this are the proof.

Cheap souvenirs of breathtaking places,

that trigger a wealth of rich memories.

Ice Cream Man | Love Noir 1


  1. loved it. you are so talented!! keep sending me updates~ Patty.

  2. Another gem--really enjoyed it. Gear fab and happy hollydays from the one just west of your east. CD will be late but will be.

  3. Never made it to San Francisco, wearing flowers in my hair,
    Never made it to a sit-in,
    Never made it to Paris,
    Never made it to my soulmate--

    Needless to say, this poem touched me.

    Lois from Va Beach

  4. always enjoy reading from you Gary..this time is no to you my friend..Paris Rita : )

  5. Wow that is a heart breaker for anyone with a heart. Good work. Thank you Gary. Keep penning.

  6. I like the idea of stumbling into the middle of someone's life...via carefully chosen words.