Day after day, he stacked the mail
catalogues, ads, all on the steps
in rain and sleet, and snow and hail.
So I sat by the window, waiting one day
caught him as he was walking away,
and queried him nicely. Why?
Why don’t you use the LETTERS slot
that’s right on the door, quite plain to see.
He stared and looked blankly at me.
“Well ma’am, I see the sign on your door
capital block letters, all in blue,
and that little slot thing too.
But I have no idea what LETTERS means
and the slot’s too narrow to ever fit
all this important stuff you get.”
“Excuse me ma’am,”
the young man said with a grin,
“That’s an important text coming in.”
Mish is hosting Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to write a poem about signs. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop by and join in the fun! Photo in public domain.