
Among the Jasmine Blossoms
a key opens
my father’s filing cabinet
locked
for so long —
the second drawer
overflows with my letters:
stamped envelopes
squiggly pen strokes
from when I was a child,
a teenager,
a young woman,
a mother —
every letter quietly kept
as a jewel
when they came to him
from far away —
now that I am near
I hear his laughter
while I walk in the garden
among the jasmine blossoms.
D. G. Vachal ©2026
Image Attribution: Mokkie, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
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