The Post Box

There is something very wonderful In the posting of a letter-- So few acts have the clarity of this. A clear-cut, forceful and far-reaching act Of pain or bliss, So it may be: Irrevocable in the subtlest way-- To-day-- You see? The post box flashes red A sign and seal of dominating law Through April green, or hard and glittering white Of winter snow. One may have vacillated day and night, Longing to end the turmoil, stress and strain, Questioning what is best or wise or right-- And then post box gleams red! Cutting clean through the world of indecision Like a shout Of triumph! Then a soft flat thud-- Like tiny echo floating out From a beyond of peace.

The letter falls-- Decisive act, prisoned in four red walls.