the door, with the moon
still in the sky,
at early morning.
absent
of sunrise.
i feel the cold blanket
of winter
upon me.
taking me back to an
earlier
time.
a time when i would
leave the house,
the dog
not far behind me.
my wagon full,
delivering the morning post.
door to door
singing
every song i knew
to quelch
the fear
and loneliness.
now i shut the door
after picking up
the paper and smile,
no longer
blue.
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