Fear of Letter Boxes
She listens all morning for the letter box’s warning
that causes a pen to skid across a page.
Gingerly pokes a pile of junk mail where brown
envelopes often lurk like adders under compost.
Opens as if defusing a bomb.
Hospital appointments are welcome as negative test results.
Shreds Reader’s Digest’s practical joke.
Down grades her fear to code orange at a drift of white letters,
but knows even these are not always innocent as they appear.
Sometimes, the friendly face of familiar handwriting
or an invitation surprising as a modest lottery win.
Still no ‘all clear’ by 12 o’ clock,
she peeps from curtains,
catching the post man passing her gate,
exhales as if missed out of a house to house search.
Sundays, strikes and snow, she is a school kid
whose bully has been excluded for a few days.
If you have any comments on this poem, Fiona Sinclair would be pleased