Packages with French books inside,
Letters with stamps on them, of birds and Presidents.
How rare that sunlight strikes a letter when
the mailbox is opened, amongst the circulars
and magazines, mail order prescription drugs
and an occasional paper bill.
I still like my credit card bills mailed to me,
no matter that they always try to convince me
to be environmentally conscious.
I am, except for the occasional drive to the
airport instead of taking the bus,
or throwing away a yogurt container
because I am too lazy to wash it.
French books with so many words inside,
words that I do not know, that will require
dictionaries and more time, how will I
find time to write a letter to someone
I love.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment