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Postcards to Edinburgh
by Kristina WoodhillOctober, 2003
You know I felt so badly when I left you on that seat
I never meant to cause you any harm
I pray a bonnie lass soon saw your warm turquoise appeal
And now youÂ’re strolling cozily on someone elseÂ’s arms
Regrettably yours,
P.S. I have to say I envy you
            To walk the streets of Edinburgh
                 And feel that changling Scottish clime
                          Each day upon your sleeve
February, 2004
I trust you've seen the sights we saw and many more by now
Please tell me that you've met some nice new friends
Perhaps a matching tartan scarf at Christmas wraps around
and warms you while you wait for winter's end
Wistfully yours,
P.S. I hope you've walked the Royal Mile
            and knelt again in old St. Giles
                        and felt the heavens open
                               as the choir's songs touched the eaves
July 9, 2005
I thought of you today with fear and hope you're in one piece
The subway bombs in London were a shock
I'm waiting in the Dublin airport for my plane to leave
were the ocean not so wide, I'd opt to walk
Cautiously yours,
P.S. I'm haunted by the lists still kept
            of soldiers lost, inside I wept
                       while walking Halls of Memory
                              within your own Crown Square
January 10, 2007
It'll be four years October since I held you close to me
I'm sure by now you've fit in like a glove
I'd laugh out loud were I to know a Malcolm there you'd found,
a Macmillan, aye, would be a gift indeed sent from above!
Hoping to see you again,
P.S. These ties of family are strong
              I'm thinking now it won't be long
                    before I cross the waters
                           and breathe deep that Scottish air
01/10/2007 Author's Note: Lost: one turquoise light weight jacket, Oct. 2003, last seen lying innocently on a bus seat in Edinburgh
If Found: wear with comfort on all trips - it loves to travel. Malcolm and Macmillian are forefather names of my family. Edited last line. Edited line 3 with thanks to Leeanne Hanson.
Posted on 01/10/2007
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 01/10/07 at 08:38 PM Hi Kristina. Wonderful idea this. Maybe you should return...it's waiting there, on a latticed wooden bench by the sea, about to be noticed by some Irish lady author.... |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/11/07 at 12:58 AM Unique in presentation. Warm and inviting description. |
| Posted by Christel Crews on 01/11/07 at 02:44 AM this is very creative! and to think you were talking to a jacket the entire time! now, i must ask, do you view your clothing (especially those items you love) as apart of you, so losing it is like losing a close member of the family? i do... hehehehe :) |
| Posted by Angela Nuzzo on 01/11/07 at 10:47 AM Very nice, Kristina! I like how you tied in your thoughts of the jacket to things that were going on around you. Were these stanzas adapted from diary entries? I agree with Marie about the great visual look of the poem. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/12/07 at 01:43 AM I love the form of this-- anything you wrote about poetically in this original form would be delightful--but especially such an ephemeral but loved object--I have lost things like this in foreign countries too--so I know exactly how you feel-- and your wistful postcards-- I like that each one has a P.S. and a different signature-- ("cautiously, regrettably, etc...)plus that they are spread out as missives (perfect, right?!) over 4 years--which shows how you don't for get these things, and and when they come to mind-- your do this!! One wanters--were they sent to what address?? Or perhaps-- just an imaginative outlet for the poet...(hee hee) If we had the photos and postcards--that would be some fine postal art! |
| Posted by James Zealy on 01/13/07 at 08:29 PM This is remakable. I lost a red poplin jacket, left it on an airplane in fact in 1968. I had left all my pictures in it from a 6 week trip. I often wonder who got it and what they did with the spent film. Very unique and creative presentation. |
| Posted by David Hill on 01/15/07 at 12:22 AM A fine idea well executed. I always give life to inanimate objects (right on down to nail clippers). I wonder what became of the cars I once owned. As Neil Young sang, “Long may you run…”
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| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 01/15/07 at 03:50 AM Kristina, the form and wistfulness present warm the air. Evidently, (and I've never been there) Edinburgh is quite chilly. In essence, this is a travelogue in addition to a desire to return to a land you appeared to love. The jacket could be symbolic of a person you met, too. May this poem fuel your heart's desire to return to the land where your forefathers roamed. I, too, would love to see this as POTD.
~Chelle~ |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/16/07 at 07:30 PM Totally innovative and quite smart to leave the true nature of this poem to the Author's Note. Congrats on hitting no. 1 Kristina! |
| Posted by Genevieve Sturrock on 01/19/07 at 04:33 PM I once left a lovely ring on the back of a sink in a club...I found it a year later on someone else's hand. Couldn't quite bring myself to ask for it back. |
| Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 01/21/07 at 10:29 PM This is the best kind of trick, (for me anyway)the kind that draws the sighs out of me in sorrow and ends in a laugh. It was quite the twist reading the authors note. Thanks! I needed this. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 02/20/07 at 12:49 PM as I walk through your garden of words, there is subtlety everywhere to be gathered by, as well there is the gentle reminder of longing and melancholy, sprinkled with the joy di vivre of quiet expectation. |
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