how's your day going

the mailman
tips his small grey hat
and says
my last name, then he hands
a bundle
of mail to me.
he's tall and lean,
Asian.
the leather bag is worn,
straps bending
at the shoulders of his
wet blue shirt.
he moves on.
it's a simple exchange.
no talk
about the weather,
no discussion
of kids or wife.
no, how's your day
going.
he moves on.
we all move on.