The Bark of the Mail Carrier

I hear it begin a block away--
the rising crescendo of dog songs.
She's coming! She's here!

They warn of her evil
that bringer of bills, catalogues,
and rejections.
The sturdy Germanic mail carrier
whose grim face easily breaks into a smile.

The dogs would surround her
in a ring of fire, trap her
in sleep throughout eternity.

And I would let them, except
once in while she brings a letter, check
or acceptance.

Wilma Weant Dague

If you've any comments on this poem, Wilma Weant Dague would be pleased to hear from you.