“An Ode to the Mailman”
I’m excited to report,
a new quarantine sport,
the mailman and his transport.
Wait until he or she comes around,
And guess what’s waiting to be found.
Is a letter from my friend,
Unable to see each other again?
Or is it the acceptance packet,
From the college of my choice,
Wishing to go and to find my own voice.
>Or is it nothing, nothing at all,
Just bills to pay and junk overall?
I wait for the mailman,
Each day and each night,
Waiting for him to come
and to spread his delight.
And since the mailman doesn’t arrive
until twenty past five,
He gives me an awful lot of time
To look forward to his drive.
The suspense and the tension,
Life’s little lessons,
Waiting a while,
For that wave and that smile.
It’s the little things in life,
They say, to make it alright.
And I didn’t believe them,
Until my daily respite,
Arrived with a bustle and a slow creak,
The mailman, he hurried right down my street.
He opened the space where dreams come alive,
And let me imagine and dream what’s inside.