Her tin mailbox sags beneath the stack
Of envelopes and folded homes
Her fingertips have traced each seal and latch
While porch-light circles her alone
She tucks one moonlit card behind the glass
And listens as the footsteps start to go
That mailbox keeps shouting
The voice through the hinge
Her silence is weighing
The weight of a thing
Her letters lie waiting
For morning to bring
She runs through the blue hour
To silence each ring
A grocery bag hangs heavy on her arm
As yellow bulbs betray the rain
She stops where crows are gathering and swarm
Around the rusted mailbox chain
Inside, a stamp is placed to pay for flight
But still she holds the letter through the pain
That mailbox keeps shouting
The voice through the hinge
Her silence is weighing
The weight of a thing
Her letters lie waiting
For morning to bring
She runs through the blue hour
To silence each ring
The first gray light is climbing up the road
And tracing dust along her shoes
She whispers every word she never showed
And presses them beneath the blue
A child next door is waking with a yawn
While running shoes are tightening from the root
That mailbox keeps shouting
The voice through the hinge
Her silence is weighing
The weight of a thing
Her letters lie waiting
For morning to bring
She races toward daylight
To silence each ring
The hinged metal door is trembling wide
As names she loved sit sealed inside
She grips the post until her palms have dried
Then throws one trembling letter in the tide
A milkman rounds the corner, wheels apart
While half-written names are hidden in her heart
That mailbox keeps screaming
A full-throated refrain
Her silence is breaking
The stillness like glass
Her letters keep waiting
Past sunlight and grass
She finally sends them
Before sunrise has passed
