The Letter Home

“Dear Wife,” it begins.

The beloved yellowing paper nearly crumbling in my hands
Connecting me to my colonial grandfather.

“Send boots and tobacco for trading.”

The dismal conditions ache with worn out shoes and snowstorms raging.
The food is sparse, while tiredness runs rampant.
Wives sacrifice to fight from home and ease the men’s pain.

“My little darling” he yearns.

Away from home and lonely in the long days when fighting pauses.
A family man away from the newborn babe that would eventually lead to me.
The tears fall, a heartfelt yearning to return home.

“I have hope,” he writes, “as surely as the sun rises.”

To endure the war and reach home again,
And he does to a nation reborn as the sun rises on a promising future.