There he is, his cheery face
beaming at me on the other side
of leaded panes
He looks me up and down
as I open the door -
not in a sleazy way
but rather out of friendly concern:
"Don't go losing too much weight, now;
you're fine as you are!"
He holds out my post but I know
he won't yield until we've spoken;
we're the same, he and I:
open, approachable, no pretence
and no respecter of persons
in this English class system
"If I see you down that gym,
I'll call out 'Hey! Wayside!'"
(the name of my house)
- and he will, too!
Just like I know he longs to do
when he sees me out with the dog
I like him
He makes me feel at home
And comfortable
your katero is a man of words and letters and has a wayside sort of manner ...don't forget sometimes the postman sometimes rings thrice ...
Reviewed by na na (Reader)
Reviewed on May 21, 2004
Your relationship with him fits like and old comfortable pair of shoes that you have no desire to discard; though they may look ragedy and of no value. It is good that we can find others who make us feel comfortable with us, the way your poetry makes me feel. I seem to feel I have known you forever, know very little of you, and want to know much more. Hugs Bill xx
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on March 10, 2004
I have a friendly postman too one day when it was raining he even helped me carry in the groceries.... This is an excellent poem. and Tribute.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
