Mail Lady
The van jolts its way into our street.
She hops about in her animated cage
from dashboard to counter
adroitly cardsharping the world.
To her is given a great dispensing,
deftly she sorts
the trivial from the eventful,
flicks the lid of our mail boxes
as dire epistles are bundled with the trite
and the slight.
Each mail box now bears witness
that we are important enough to be persuaded,
pursued and pestered.
for she sorts and sends
and we wait expectantly to discover
if we are recorded within a printed letter,
then wave as the little van chugs away
on its rubber tread.
even though those white envelopes
may hint of trouble ahead.
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