(inspired by Postcard Poetry, 2010)
Postcards again adorn
my water closet4,
as Anne Frank called it
from her World War II attic.
I removed predecessors
a year ago , preparing for
move that never materialized.
They’ve been blank ever since.
Recently postcards from unknown poets
across country begin
to appear with my post
addressing animals, flowers, duty, mourning
and war.
I write my on daily verse
in response or garner
from today’s new experiences.
Send assistant or self
to mailbox
daily.
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How lovely to receive poetry randomly on postcards. Nice verses.
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