Issue # 10 August 2011
Esther Greenleaf Murer
The mailman cometh

I was
a child I
never got any
mail and I couldn't understand
how my father could throw away letters unopened.
I used to fish the envelopes out of the wastebasket and call them "my 'portant mail."

But now that I'm grown and the mailman brings the daily yammer of puffed-up charities
vaunting themselves and behaving themselves unseemly
most of my mail goes straight to the
recycle just like
my father's
mail did