Post Office
If only I could live
among the specks
of these tiles,
whirling in vinyl
constellations
of chips.
If only this rug were
a good place to rest,
its textured surface
prickling my cheek.
If only this blue neon
accent lighting were
the closest thing
I had to daylight.
I could atrophy,
watch my skin
lose its color.
If only a P.O. box
offered a space
to hold my heart.
Cool, corrugated
metal; I’d keep
the key.
If only I could wear
this webbed ribbon
that marks where
to stand. I would
pull it from its posts,
wrap it around myself
like the belt of Orion.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
I really enjoyed the spin you put on the post office…you managed to bring life to waiting in line there, something I would have sworn was impossible… I like the refrain of if only, if only… It’s inspired me to think of other if only’s…There’s so many links tonight… I’m so glad I found this.
Heartfelt (but terribly belated) thanks, Serena! I’m so pleased that you were glad you read my poem.
wow….the po box…wanting to lock your heart in the cold metal box….that bit really got me in this….def an emotive piece…
Thanks, Brian! I had lots of time for my mind to wander, as I waited (and waited) there …
Marilyn, this is so good. Loved the images, the if only’s.
Thank you very much, Victoria!
I love your description of the vinyl floor in the first stanza. I like the whole thing, but I thought that image was particularly vivid and flowed really well.
Thanks, Annette (belatedly). I’ve always been intrigued by that flooring that has little specks of different colors.
Pretty verse! Like the idea of putting your heart in a PO box.
Thanks, Mohana! I was in line for a long time, and I began to imagine how cool and refreshing those metal boxes might be.
The insistent sense of yearning builds to great effect through these picaresque escape routes and towards that fine last stanza.
Thank you very much (belatedly)!