Never Forgotten

Although we both loved books
and read voraciously, you never
were much of a writer, unlike me
with a roster of writing friends
whom I'd never met other than
through letters that went back and
forth over the years. Many years;
one now long dead, others not heard
from and one whose habit it was to
make carbon copies of all  her letters
certain that some day she would be
memorialized and everything she'd
ever written held in perpetuity by some
university trust. She had once erred
and sent me the carbon instead of
the original. I've never kept any
of the letters I've written, but one.
Alongside it is one you wrote to 
me at age 16, barely literate, but
profoundly dear, professing your
love for me. The other is one I had
written to you once when you were
away from home and our children
were small, to tell you that we all
were fine, and our youngest child
was digging up the backyard
determined to discover a dinosaur
egg. I've kept those letters, they're
precious, I just don't recall where I
placed them. But no mind, each
and every word is engraved in my
mind, never to be forgotten or mislaid.