THE CITY OF BURDEN
AND OF THE BURDENED
ASK ABOUT MAGGIE’S LETTERS.
“Please,
Have I received any letters?
Any news from the outside?”
The mask stares back at you
“No. There have been no letters.
And if a letter did come from the outside
I would have to burn it.”
Your heart sinks.
Before she can close the slat
You manage to blurt out
“Could I write a letter?
If I wanted to send word
That I’m alive and well?”
Expectant silence hangs
“You know the rules
Nothing goes in or out.
Busy yourself with something.
It’s best not to think too much.”
And with that
the slat closes
You are alone again
The sun is setting out your window
Your hope is dimming too
Is this a haven
Or a prison?
Am I really the lucky one?
You lay down on your bed
And cast impotent tears
The last testament to a long-forgotten person
Not for Maggie
But for yourself