Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of
night stays these couriers from the swift
completion of their appointed rounds.
– Inscription on the James A. Farley Post Office,
8th Ave., New York City, NY, USA.
Nor rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor fazed Dalmatian
Should stay these saints from their appointed trek;
This blizzard, though, has paralysed the nation –
Drifts feet-and-inches deep, roads gone to heck.
I shimmy out on sheet ice, nearly slipping,
Squint downhill into white, think: “Not today.”
But lo, a figure shivering, huddled, dripping –
The postman upward plods his weary way.
Self-sacrificing servant! Does he bring
Perfumed epistles, biting and inviting?
No, just one small, thin, plain manila thing . . .
Addressed to someone else? And in my writing?
He forks it over, striving not to dampen it,
And coldly snaps, "You're s'posed to stick a stamp on it."