Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Rural Route Mail


Here's a poem for those of us who grew up in the country and addresses were assigned Rural Route numbers. We lived on Rural Route #4, I believe.  The poem is by Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laurette 2004-06,  and appeared in Sunday's Herald Times.

Christmas Mail

Cards in each mailbox,
angel, manger, star and lamb,
as the rural carrier,
driving the snowy roads,

hears from her bundles

the plaintive bleating of sheep,
the shuffle of sandals,
the clopping of camels.
At stop after stop,
she opens the little tin door
and places deep in the shadows
the shepherds and wise men,
the donkeys lank and weary,
the cow who chews and muses.
And from her Styrofoam cup,
white as a star and perched
on the dashboard, leading her
ever into the distance,
there is a hint of hazelnut,
and then a touch of myrrh.



Photo credit to Hilary Henegar