A 10 minute break

I used to look forward to your letters
your little love notes that came
daily in sporadic moments as we worked.
Less and less they came as the real world
of five senses began to dull the sixth.
Tell me do you miss those intrusions,
or do you happily click clack along
as if those minute interuptions
were an annoyance to be given good
and terminable riddence today.
Still, I look for them sometimes like
small shiny rocks in the river to
show me how important I was for a time
to someone who I thought hung the moon.