The other day

I began a letter —

intended it to be short

and it grew and grew

in an unforeseen way

as I became enchanted

with my past.


My inquiry into my recipient’s life

(after a few appropriate  words)

moved on to became a history lesson

in some earlier ventures of mine

that  I thought might be of interest.


After I pressed “SEND”

I  thought I wrote too much

but had no way to retrieve

the abundance of my words.


I expect  I told her

more than she needed to know.



I get letters like that

and sometimes

I have conversations like that.


I don’t feel extremely penitent

but  there are occasions

when I disappoint myself —

but just a little.


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