On the skirted porch
that flanks two sides of the house,
on a wicker table,
two stacks of mail wait,
kept in place by rocks--
one for me, and one for you.
 
There's nothing important for me--
a few flyers are all.
For you there are cards
wishing you well,
arriving the day after your passing.
One small card, handmade,
with a heart carefully drawn,
said, "Get well soon!"
 
Across the street,
Mr. Davis pushes his mower,
which makes a pleasant whirring sound.
Standing, leaning with my hands on the table,
I listen.
 

Mary Kathryn Vernon was born in Washington, D.C., in the summer of 1941. She has engaged in creative writing  since 1975. The San Diego Reader has published one of her memoirs and an interview. She lives, works, and writes in San Diego.

 

August 2005