Stalking the Post

I wait for the mail man to come down my street

Hoping he brings a sealed paper "treat."

A letter, that is, from far far away

Addressed to me from Elder McRae.

Spying for his truck to come 'round the bend

Arriving later and later seems his informal trend.

At last I hear the unmistakable sound

Of the mail truck's engine, and there it is found!

He opens the box and stuffs letters in,

And at the next house he does it again.

When that little white truck is just out of sight,

I rush out the door even faster than light.

Quickly I scan through junk, bills, and ads.

Most days I leave discouraged and sad.

Once, however, in a very great while

There's something from him and I can't help but smile. :)