Forwarding Address Unknown   Your father's letter came in the mail And I, excited at the return address Ripped open the envelope like a child Eager to hear of the sunsets in Montana.   My eyes flew over the words Suddenly, in slow motion (July 24,1994) Unable to comprehend the words "Your letters were found in his belongings."   At that moment, the horses no longer ran free And I understood the pain of war telegrams. But all I could do was scream in frustration That the silent battle was only in your mind.   Later, when the what and the how were answered The never-to-end struggle with why began. Why would someone who taught the world of togetherness Choose to die, alone, with his grandfather's gun?   Now serotonin has taken on a different meaning And depression Is no longer just a bold faced word I read in a textbook.   So I try to accept that answers will never be found But sense that you are still with me doing cartwheels in the rain While rears seal letters which can no longer be sent. And the realization hits me for the 100th time...   That you left me with no forwarding address.   by Nicole Webel, MS I                                                  ¥   In memory of David Williams     April 5, 1963 - July 24, 1994