Monday, January 23, 2012

The Post Office Blues

The lights are dim
Your countenance gray
to match your shirt, the floor, the day
No smile cracks your lips
No how are you quips;
The automated teller
is the nicer feller.
Where will I go
when Saturdays fail?
Off to a place
where they smile in my face



2 comments:

  1. Hello my darling Nancy! I love that you are writing, and that you have a blog. Now I will stalk you! :)

    This is such a wonderful poem. It makes me think back to the little notes I got in college, such as:

    Dear Amy,
    Although slugs secrete mucus, coastal garter snakes from California consider them a preferred prey.
    Love,
    Nancy

    OR

    Dear Amy,
    Your mom called and took me out to lunch and bought me a new dress. She also told me to tell you that she hates you.
    Love,
    Nancy

    You were ALWAYS a literary genius!

    xoxo,
    Amy

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  2. Oh, why must you have such a perfect memory!? I must admit the first note was straight plagiarism from my Bio 101 text. And only you and Diamond Deb could know the depth of the joke in the mom note! I can only hope I've made you laugh half as much as you've tickled me through the years.
    Thanks for the support, as usual, my friend. I hope you do stalk me!

    ReplyDelete