the mailman walked through the wind
in his youth he had gravely sinned
he carried a bag on his back
and followed a well worn track
the house was up ahead
in its youth it was painted red
later it became a church
but left poor sinners in the lurch
long ago and far away
people wrote letters every day
the mailman carried himself with pride
and was not just along for the ride
mrs walker waited at the gate
mrs hoover did also
they waited in the sun and rain
and in the sleet and snow
the mailman carried news
from far and from wide
and when he took his shoes off at night
he beamed with justified pride
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