|Collection of mysterious mail|
|a beautiful old stamp|
On Friday, November 30, the post office box held another piece of mail from the anonymous poet, another small piece of lined paper folded to become its own envelope, bearing various stamps, address and enclosed poem typed on a manual typewriter. The stamps this time are five in number: an 8-cent American flag stamp, 6-cent Leif Erikson, 15-cent coral reefs, 15-cent USA Olympics 1980, and—my favorite—a beautiful, deep blue, landscape format 3-cent commemorative depicting the arrival of Lafayette in America in 1777.
But it is the poem inside that is the real prize.
|an exquisite little poem|
Previous poems were on the subjects snow, honey, and the firefly. This new one is titled “Tell Me.” It is so lovely it bears repeating:
who does not dream
what Night already knew
how the willows laugh
when Moon finds the cloud
where Sun hid her pearls
Beautiful. Mysterious. Joyful. All together wonderful.
Isn't it? A precious anonymous gift, courtesy of the United States Postal Service.
This is delightful through and through! Living poetry. Love it.
Cool stamps, nice poem. It's a shame the person remains anonymous.
Thought you'd be interested to know that we've been receiving these out in California, too. Found your post by googling a line from this poem. It's a beautiful little poem, even more so because the poet seems to want nothing in return.
And now a new mystery: how did AJ, Linda, and Tim all find this two-month-old post on the same day? It is a wonderful surprise on this dreary, grey, rainy winter day to be found by a trio of writers I've never heard from before.
Perhaps the poet is thinking about how Emily D. used to send poems to her editor, little poems, half-anon.
I love the stamps. That's the best part.
I love the stamps, too, Jennifer, but if I opened one of these lovely missives and found tedious doggerel inside, the charm would instantly evaporate. No, the poems are the best part.
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