in my great discouragement, and I will go on
with my drawing.
I received your postcard.
I don’t know how much postage
Costs in the past that was your present,
But I do sense that the words cost you deeply.
I thank you for flinging them forward
In the wild, thick-stroked way you love
So that they would stick to the wall of the world
And land in the mailbox of my heart today.
I would just like to say
Take heart, take up, and go on
And know that no matter how hard it feels
To sketch each line
There is someone in the future who believes
That it matters
And who hears the scratching of your pencil
And thinks it is the most encouraging music
She has heard
In a long, long time.