My Mailbox

oh those birds are so damn loud
why are they so loud?

i  glare out my window and tilt my head
it looks like the mailbox has moved

the force of disdain has swayed
its concrete body away from that tree,
those happy sounds

the mailbox knows me well

it’s swallowed all those hospital bills,
funeral home bills, gravemaker bills, and sympathy cards
and then spit them back out in my face

it’s been runover by winter, too

and on this hopeful May day
i think that mailbox is the only one
that really understands me