Poetry Corner

Some poetry treats for this gloomy November day.

Becoming Separate

I've become someone you used to love,
You've become someone I thought I knew.
I've become a relief from obligation,
You've become an ache I can't find relief from.
I've become the one who can't just be your friend,
You've become not a friend at all.
I've become the one you have hurt and can no longer face,
You've become the one I won't let hurt me anymore.
I've become the one who won't accept the secret part of you,
You've become the one I used to believe in.
I've become a reminder of the man you tried to be,
You've become a reminder to be true to myself.
--Amy L.

Saying Goodbye to the Downtown P.O.

I had no reason to trust in this frumpy
building , its turquoise-tinted windows broken,
speckled linoleum smelling of Lysol,
most-wanted flyers scotch-taped to the walls.
But I did, offering up envelopes
and brown paper packages with the hope
of a newlywed or novice, releasing
my cards into the crocodile maw
of the mail bin, that yawning metal hole
that never vowed to be faithful, yet
still carried every check and love
note to its destination, undamaged.

The post office closed today, and I admit
I cried sending last letters in this place
where life never let me down.
--Lauren B

Some more poetry for the Post Office

When the Post Office was a Happy Place

Back then, when mailmen walked their routes
Leather bags slung over their shoulders
Cans of mace tucked safely at their hips
Mail contained letters and postcards from lovers and grandmas

Leather bags slung over their shoulders
Cream colored envelopes with black handwriting
Mail contained letters and postcards from lovers and grandmas
Pictures of gondolas in Venice and brown bears in Yellowstone

Cream colored envelopes with black handwriting
Gave way to No money down; only %6 APR financing
Pictures of gondolas in Vienna and brown bears in Yellowstone
Became fake sweepstakes entries with million dollar first prizes

No money down; only %6 APR financing
I once was a child traveling with that mailbag
Hoarding the fake sweepstakes entries with million dollar first prizes
Waiting for riches in letters arriving by post

I once was a child traveling with that mailbag
Understanding that hope often came in envelopes
Waiting for riches in letters arriving by post
The most anticipated light of day was the shadow of the mailman on the porch

Understanding that hope often came in envelopes
I had a secret crush on the man who lugged this mailbag up and down my street
The most anticipated light of day was his shadow
Bringing my letters from a long ago best friend moved to Boston

I had a secret crush on the man who lugged this mailbag up and down my street
Bringing my admission to the college that would take me finally far from home
Bringing my letters from a long ago best friend moved to Boston
Or a card and note from my grandmother with a $5 bill

Bringing my admission to the college that would take me finally far from home
Back then, when mailmen walked their routes
Cans of mace tucked safely at their hips
Bringing a card and note from my grandmother with a $5 bill.

--Amy C