The Letter He Kept

Subject line: found these. No comma,

no explanation. My mother sending

a scan from the attic box—his papers,

his photograph, and then the letter,

the one he never sent.

I opened it at my kitchen table

at eleven at night, the screen too bright.

His handwriting in the scan.

The way he made his letters lean

the same direction mine lean.

He wrote around whatever it was.

I trust you understand the difficulty.

I am hoping for a resolution.

The formal language of a man

who learned to keep the real thing underneath.

He died before I was born.

I have been writing like him

my whole life

and didn't know.

My mother's email is still open

in another tab.

I haven't called her back.