A decaying envelope 

and aging parchment 
held history in bolded words 
and blanks, filled 
with a typewritten name
long since evaporated tears 
faintly remain imprinted
trailing an inky fate 
a hundred and five years old 
and the grief of a mother 
still pulses from the page 
as if gothic font caused 
a war to lose it’s purpose 
My grandfather showed me the death certificate of his uncle sent from Washington, DC to his (my grandfather’s) grandparents after their son’s death in France during WWI.