RECEIVING A LETTER
Everyday she waited for the mail man to arrive,
Hoping someone remembered that she was still alive,
Day after day he walked past, she’d turn and sigh
Trying to hide the tears coming from her aging eye.

Even a bill seemed a blessing, at least it was some mail,
Flyers kept her busy, hoping cheerfulness wouldn’t fail.
Her friends and relatives called but she didn’t hear well,
You can’t re-read a phone call she did them often tell.

She looked often at family photos but they were out of date,
She had not received any new batch of pictures of late,
Just a short note would do saying that everyone was fine,
Soon it is my birthday, then I know some mail will be mine.

Next day she waited for the mail man along the path to come,
She had tidied up quickly and nearly all her work was done,
He went along the far side of the street, he was nearly here,
The anticipation was growing as he drew ever more near.

He stopped and smiled and yes, there was real mail to day,
Some cards as well as bills and flyers happily came her way,
Old fumbling fingers struggled the mail to very quickly undo,
There were five cards and one letter when the task was through.

She had been remembered maybe just a little bit too late,
For she had a heart attack and the lonely soul joined her mate,
The cards she had placed on the shelf pretty as could be
But the letter clutched in her hand came too late for her to see.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 20 July 2004