Poetry, August 2022.
Private Commission.
Inside his morning satchel,
I know there lives a fortune
I wonder:
What jewels might the postman spare today?
The roaring kiln of summer
Does not deter his marching
Its heat
Like with the snow, won’t block the way
A whistle and a smile
Bring youth to silver features
Good morning!
He’s aglow with duty’s light
And while hold my morning parcels
A treasure of connection
The postman
Carries on with changing lives.

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