Delivery
Our smooth-calved mailman
drives up our hill at ten.
His mail is now pre-sorted
by machine
so he gets to sleep-in
but also wait a round.
He doesn’t get to me
‘til after three
as I’m helping
my neighbour Caroline
wrestle
the buggy-cum-bassinette
out of her car.
‘A few more cards today’ he says
stroking her newborn’s head
and then turns:
‘Nothing for you.’
© Beverly Martens
Published in Swings+Roundabouts
Poems on Parenthood
Random House, May 2008
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So good...
ReplyDelete"so he gets to sleep-in
but also wait a round"