get out of his truck.
he's carrying a letter
on a gold plate
with both hands.
i open the door.
this is for you, he says.
it's so rare.
it's a personal letter.
there are tears in his eyes
that he wipes away with his
grey sleeve.
someone has taken the time
and effort
to sit down
and with their hand and a pen
and write
a letter.
we opened it at the post office.
we just had to know
what was said.
we hope you don't mind.
sadly
it's not good news.
but i'll leave you to it.
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