Poem: On Stationary with No Address

You promised you’d write me
When you reached California
The first letters were filled
With joy of exploration of new
Places the sights and sounds
Of the west coast sunshine
As time went on the letters 
Dwindled to a couple of lines
About how the kids out there
Were more fun the party with
Than the girls from St. Francis
The last letter I got was a mess
Incoherent rambling from a zip
I didn’t recognize but the smell
Of booze a cocaine nose bleed
Told me you’d drifted far away
From that girl in pleated skirts
Knee high socks dreaming big
Of going west to be a movie star
Me with my small dreams stayed
Home writing these letters to you
Hoping one day you’d come home
Now I write letters I’ll never send
Filled with hopes that you’ll stay
Alive instead of burning out like
A falling star that never actually
A star just misplaced wishes