The Mailbox

by Barbara Brooks


Used to love walking to the mailbox
with its promise of a letter from my mother.
No matter that the letters listed doctor
appointments and health reports
marking my parents’ decline. It was still
a note keeping me attached
to the last place I called home.

Outside of magazines, most mail
goes into the recycle. Not too many bills,
they come in emails. Occasionally a note
from someone thanking me for my donation. 
Frequently, the black mailbox lingers empty
as if waiting for the weekly letter.


* * * * *

Barbara Brooks, author of The Catbird Sang, A Shell to Return to the Sea, Water Colors chapbooks, is a member of Poet Fools. Her work has been accepted in Avalon Literary Review, Chagrin River Review, The Foundling Review, Blue Lake Review, Third Wednesday, Peregrine, Tar River Poetry, Silkworm among others.