DRIVING TO TOWN LATE TO MAIL A LETTER
by ROBERT BLY
It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted.
The only things moving are swirls of snow.
As I lift the mailbox door, I feel its cold iron.
There is a privacy I love in this snowy night.
Driving around, I will waste more time.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
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