Dulled Appetite

Your letter today
came after such long absence
I had forgotten I worried
about not hearing from you.
It’s a dull appetite I have
for opening your letter.
Of course I hope you are well,
have a job you deserve,
receive good news from your folks.
I wish you luck when you need it.
But too much time, like water
under the bridge, has flowed past
for me to be aware of you
as once I was, and I opened your letter
in turn among bills and advertisements.
I did not tremble to reach for it
as I did once and fumble
with eagerness to open it,
every word a precious sigh.
I glanced at it with the same
attention I give to a letter
from a business firm I no longer
do business with.