Royal Mail Boxes

Three women, sit behind
cedar slats at Perot Post Office
on Queen Street in Hamilton.

Three dark hens in a roost guide
me not to drop my postcard into
the mail slot of a steel birdhouse.

They fuss over boxes of envelopes
as if a nest. What change makes
me  have to reroute an old habit?

Royal Mail Boxes rust into bruises
between island stone walls, bloody
as trapped animals. The correspond-

ence inside, a collapsed vertebrae.
A stack of letters, bills, cards
with old news, un-urgent, un-read.



----------

Nancy Anne Miller is a Bermudian poet. Her book Somersault is forthcoming from Guernica Editions(CA).Her poems have appeared  in Edinburgh Review (UK), The International Literary Quarterly (UK), Stand(UK), Magma (UK),Journal of Postcolonial Writing (UK), Mslexia (UK), The Moth (IE), A New Ulster (IE), The Fiddlehead (CA), The Dalhousie Review (CA), Postcolonial Text (CA),The Caribbean Writer (VI),tongues of the ocean(BS),Sargasso: Journal of Caribbean Literature(PR)Journal of Caribbean Literatures (USA), Hampton Sydney Poetry Review(USA) Theodate (USA),with poems forthcoming in Agenda(UK). She has anM Litt in Creative Writing from Univ. of Glasgow, is a MacDowell Fellow and teaches workshops in Bermuda.

No comments:

Copyright 2010-2019 St. Somewhere Press All rights reserved.
Copyright of individual works contained in St. Somewhere Journal remain the property of their respective authors.