Special Delivery by Mary Ruefle

Special Delivery
Mary Ruefle

Overnight the ground
seems not to have moved,
the sun that was ablood
when it went to bed
has taken a shower,
the white cat on top of the fence
will not say where he slept
and on the birdbath
sits the brown bird
who writes me a letter
each morning
from someone I have not
heard from in years.
Verily, verily
the news is good.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.