Mail Call

I need fresh flowers each morning
To make me a bouquet.
The note you sent a week ago, 
The words have blown away.

I need a smile to feed me,
I need a thot to wear, 
The faint perfume of happiness
With every breath of air.

The note you sent a week ago,
The words have worn away.
No letter came this morning 
Sharp with the breath of May, 
Where your heart walked today.