The Invitation

The invitation

Unceremoniously came in

There was no special paper

With glitter or stickers or doilies

Like the beloved love letters

Crafted for Valentine’s Day

There was no carefully hand written note

With shapes of commas, hearts & exclamation

points that I would recognize

Like my own loosely wound slanted cursive

Nor was their any formality of envelope

With special font of address and titles

Enclosed with gold embossing rsvp card

Like the anticipatory life event

Planned for the following season

There was no warning of her invitation

Like the sirens first wail in the distance

as they approach the dramatic scene

Nor was there a gentle nudge that it was coming

Like the birds that kindly lull me

Into my awareness of morning’s return

No, The invitation

Unceremoniously came in,

slipping into my long thread of emails stacked

between spam and political messages on a Thursday

To Undisclosed Recipients:

The invitation

asking me to return

To return to a time when,

her son was alive, playing with mine

our friendship was alive, joying & crying with me

our motherhood lives intertwined

with wonder of it all

What of this invitation to return

to a time without a return address?

Was it really addressed to me here now?

With opening the invitation—

What am I inviting in?