New poem for a snow day. For decades, my mother and father saved postcards and kept them in scrapbooks. I recycled some of the sincere writing to make a kind of collage of messages from people on the move. These date from 1930s to 1960s. There's a hint of haiku in the simplicity and observations. Time is scrambled in the sequence.
Other People’s Postcards
Vic met me at the train. Having a swell time.
Seeing you people traveling the globe, I decided to try it!
If you don’t write soon, I won’t write anymore.
I’m at Salisbury Beach. Water is grand. You should be here.
The food really stinks in Berlin. Don’t worry about me.
I’m having the trip of my life. Creation is full of wonders.
Well, some fun in the army. Will be a man when I get out.
We have one more day before going to Yugoslavia.
Montreal is nice, but I will be glad to be back home.
Every piece of ginger you sent was enjoyed.
Lorraine remarried 30 days ago, Junior living with me.
This trip is as close to paradise as I will ever get.
I’m fenced in with heat, rain, and Democrats in Providence.
This is the kid brother dropping a line to say I’m O.K.
Rio is huge, modern, and clean, and the beaches gorgeous.
Tell Dick we saw the Navy’s Blue Angels stunt pilots.
Sent you a card to put in your scrapbook. I’m alive.
I just hate to go back to cold New England.
I was in Venice last year, too. Next stop is Trieste.
Arrived in Carolina Friday. Wish you were here.
—Paul Marion (c) 2018