Monday, December 31, 2012

The Postman Rang Late

Photograph by Vickie Sheehan

She had waited
for the mail
peeking out the window
running breathlessly to
the box in soft
silk slippers
across dewy grass
the air heavy with
summer flowers

She had waited
for the mail
running quickly
through the crisp
leaves of autumn
crackling around
her ankles

She had waited
for the mail
running through
the falling snow
her father's coat
hurriedly thrown
over her shoulders

She had waited
as summer came
again and flowers
swooned about her
in bewitching profusion
and the mailbox was
empty until she
stopped running
and moved on

Her mother visited
the day she returned
a brided woman now
husband pulling their
suitcases up the stairs
of their home

Her mother visited
They drank lemonade
She laughed bright
cheeked and sparkly eyed
As her mother handed
her the letter stained
and worn
and too late
addressed to her
in a familiar hand
from a far off land

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