Envelope Poem

POETRY

by Julia Lisella

Emily Dickinson sent this minuscule two-inch-long pencil in a letter to the Bowles, “If it had no pencil, / Would it try mine – ,” wryly nudging them to write. It was enveloped in a letter folded into thirds horizontally, pinned closed at each side.

―Jen Bervin, “Studies in Scale” in The Gorgeous Nothings

Like the poet, my mother wrote letters all her life
puzzling messages half in pencil half in ink; 
she’d tape them laboriously instead of pin them
each note almost the same, 
instead of a pencil hinting us to write
a $5 bill sometimes crimped into a small square
and when most mischievous, a single dollar
folded many times and
have a cup of coffee
see you soon god willing
scratched
inside a greeting card
from a mission she’d given money to
or on a quarter of a blue-lined sheet of loose-leaf,
and again wrapped and etched on that
another note,
kisses and hugs marked in x’s and o’s.
Each edge of card or sheet snugly taped,
the envelope itself double sealed,
especially the minuscule space between 
where the envelope’s glue ends
and no sealant lives. 
Now the notes addressed to my kids,
and like Emily’s command to the Bowles to write back:
take your mother out for coffee
buy something god bless