Saturday, March 17, 2007

blue mail box

I saw her this morning again
The woman by the parking lot

She walks fast from the office
To the sidewalk across
Deposits her letters
An oblong mail blue box

As she walks under the shadows that the buildings
On the floors of pavement have drawn
She shivers and holds her arms
Rubbing one against other
To heat from that rhythmical cold-warm-cold

And when there’s a gap between buildings
& the sun heats the before-cold-nothingness
just then she lets her arms go
Stretches soundly
& Turning her head a bit up
smiles soft to the sun

The letters, the bills
envelops of different sizes, various colors, textures, and sorts
Are on their way to a destiny
Always for me
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