as the stamp awaits

my circular file is filled

with

half written notes.

torn cards.

i just don't have the words

to say what

i want to say.

too shallow, too vapid,

too bland

or lame.

i crumble each sheet

into a ball

and toss them towards

the corner,

the overflowing

wastebasket.

one more. one more.

as the envelope and stamp

awaits.